#and I suppose that I can say the same thing about Mouthwashing

[bandtrees]

the thing about curly is that it feels like a copout to describe him as "too nice" but i think that really is the situation with him. i feel when talking about him as a leader there's a lot of talk about the anya and jimmy stuff but i feel not a lot about the parts that show his passiveness causing problems before then.

most notably, that he let daisuke aboard a ship not made for five people, and that he told the others about the layoffs before he was meant to. both very well-intentioned, interpersonally Nice things to do, that were welcome as a friend who cares about the crew, but less so as an authority figure who's supposed to have a spine about those sorts of things.

he's not really thinking about the repercussions for revealing this information, or the impact it'll have on his crew's mental states in the months they have left for their last haul, because in his eyes - and this is something he tells both anya and jimmy - they'll Get Through It Together. curly is someone who reassures the people around him a lot in his dialogue. he cares a lot about people but does, in fact, care too much, and when it comes down to it, he can't do much except care.

an important thing to note with the anya situation (specifically in contrast to the "curly only cared about jimmy" take i see around) is that curly does reassure her, and i think did genuinely believe what he was saying when he told her everything was going to be okay and that they'd figure it out together. it's just that he also told those things to jimmy, and when you're a person as passive as curly, if you don't put your foot down people are going to weasel in and use that as an opening.

curly was a good friend, but not a good leader. there's only so much that reassurances without tangible action can do for someone in the state anya was in. he likely let daisuke board because he felt for and liked him, disregarding the fact it was literally unsafe for him to do so because of the pod situation. he told the crew they were getting laid off because it felt right for him to do so, he acted as a "friend" and not as a "leader".

and this is really cool contrast to jimmy, imo, who has no sense of compassion and is quick to take impulsive, ruthless decisions he expects praise for by sole virtue of being hard. jimmy would rather mouthwash someone's open wounds and force another to commit cannibalism than mercy-kill them - because someone dying under his care means he failed, and he can't have that, and so he will drag out their suffering for as long as humanly possible. he can't actually face the consequences of his actions.

both of them have this mantra of "i can fix it" without actually fixing much of anything - however i think curly differs in that he's a compassionate person who doesn't mind being on the same level as his crew (for better or worse), meanwhile jimmy can never shake the title of "captain" and the inflated sense of importance it gives him and that he projects onto curly. curly cares but doesn't act, jimmy acts but doesn't care.

BUT - i think a really interesting thing here too is how they act in the immediate danger of the crash. jimmy hides with his hands on his head, catatonic, while curly rushes in to try and salvage the ship even when it'll endanger him. jimmy is unable to face the gravity of what he did, while curly - even if he's not a good captain socially - is willing to put himself in danger to fix it. it gives the impression that while curly can't raise a hand against other people, he's willing to go down with his ship and put others before himself.

and putting others before himself is his entire relationship with jimmy, no? curly's dialogue with his crewmates is very reassuring, with a generous "we'll fix it together" attitude (see his patience with daisuke in the foam scene, and how he offers to do jimmy's psych eval when anya doesn't want to (compared to how jimmy would likely handle those situations, as we see when he yells at anya when asked to do tasks for her)) - BUT i would argue it's even moreso apparent with jimmy.

curly's povs, in my mind, offer the views on characters we don't see from jimmy's perspective, as jimmy cherrypicks scenes to paint anya as incompetent, daisuke as stupid and spoiled, swansea as mean and unstable - with curly, we see anya is gossipy and likes to joke around, daisuke is willing to fix problems by himself even if he struggles, et cetera. and with curly, we see, in how he talks to and about jimmy, he's very... concerned for him? and walks on eggshells around him.

^^^ after jimmy has pivoted a conversation curly was having about his life to be about his insecurities, and curly takes the bait and reassures him.

in general, he seems wary of jimmy as someone who will blow up if not reassured.

and he talks to, and about him, like he's taken on this quasi-therapist "responsible" role for him. he has this very... mental health-centered way of talking to jimmy - we'll fix it together, one day at a time, hey i believe in you, etc. which gives me the impression of, and this happens very often, a very trusting and overly-empathetic guy who's been roped into a relationship with someone whose safety and actions have been made his responsibility.

(i obviously don't mean this to woobify curly, or to diminish the game's commentary on rape culture, but rather to express that there's more to curly's behavior around jimmy than "shitty men cover for eachother".)

and i think one of the ultimate tragedies of curly's character is that, in the end, what jimmy projects on him -

-was true. this is how curly thought, before he was forced to come to terms, via experiencing jimmy's abuse of him, witnessing anya's suicide and the others' bodies, that jimmy was a monster who was never going to care about curly the way curly cared about him.

but, because jimmy views curly, now disabled, as a complete blank slate because he physically cannot speak for himself, jimmy continues to project upon him the dynamic that did exist between them - no matter the horrors he puts curly through, because if curly let him get away with it then, he'd let him get away with it now, right?

and when curly didn't put his foot down when it mattered, he now no longer can - and so jimmy's words, as long as he's as unable to speak for himself as he was back then, will be in his mouth forever.

:(

[wannaeatramyeon]

Seongji Yuk x Reader: Treats

G/N. Meeting Seongji for the first time.

"Your teeth are gonna fall out."

The monster of the mountain looks at you, face blank though eyes amused, tanghulu hanging from his mouth.

You've seen him enough times to know there's not much monstrous about him, apart from his overwhelming sweet tooth.

Rumours of this monster were grossly exaggerated.

Maybe you should have had more self preservation than to wander the mountainside when such tales persist. Yet when you found out the monster was a mere man, a mere boy close to your age, who seemed to have a penchant for sugary, syrup covered fruit-

You realised the only thing to fear was cavities and tooth decay.

Still. It helps to have someone with such a reputation on your side, you decide, as you toss over a pack of fruit gummies.

A hand shoots out and swiftly catches it.

(Six. You swore you saw six fingers on that hand.)

"Thought you might like these," you shrug as he gives you an odd look, "See ya!"

.

.

After the fifth pack of candies you threw at him, the guilt sets in.

You make your way through now familiar half hidden paths, searching for the monster.

He's there. Sitting in front of his giant wok, surrounded by freshly made tanghulu. Scents of sugar and caramel fill the air.

"You're here again," The words are spoken so quietly you almost missed them. His voice is softer than you expected.

"I bought you more things," you hold out a small plastic bag. He gives you the same look each time. 

"Open it," you encourage, shoving it more forcefully in his direction.

With little trust - which is somewhat unfair, you think, considering all the treats he has received from you - he takes the bag.

(Six. You know you saw six fingers on that hand.)

He opens it, peers in, face clouded with caution. Then-

Eyebrows shooting into his hairline, eyes widening almost comically, mouth forming an 'o'-

The tension breaks and he chuckles.

"It's one thing if all the tanghulu you eat rots your teeth, that's your own fault," You rub the back of your head self-consciously as he pulls out more fruit candies, as well as a new toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, mouthwash one after the other. "But if it's because of me then..."

"You're strange," he says, staring at you like you're a puzzle he can't quite figure out.

His words have no bite.

.

.

"Seongji Yuk," he eventually provides his name with reluctance. In exchange, you provide the rest of the banchan and rice to accompany his homemade kimchi.

(Your single braincell stopped functioning the first time you realised he does in fact eat something besides sugar.

It's endearing, this supposed 'monster' making his own tanghulu, making his own kimchi.

You kept comparing his recipe with your own before eventually he asked you to leave out of exasperation.)

"Well Seongji, your kimchi needs more saeujeot," It's not bad, it's just missing something.

"You don't have to eat it," he grumbles, swallowing down an extra big mouthful.

.

.

"So..."  You stall, elongating the word, letting it drift into the night. You don't really know Seongji well, hell you don't know him at all. Maybe it would be intrusive to ask.

You hear a rustling beside you. "So what?"

"So… you live on this mountain?"

"I do."

"Huh." You gaze out at the stars. It's a pretty peaceful existence, or it would be if not for Cheonliang. "On your own?"

"Yes."

"Do you ever get lonely?"

A beat. Then - "No."

Oh.

You turn to him and see his face blank but eyes amused. Messy hair and high cheekbones highlighted by the fire.

"Well I can visit you if I get lonely then."

There's a huff of laughter. Seongji knows he can't stop you anyway. He turns back toward the vast inky sky. Takes in the scattered stars. Feels the heat from the flames, a heat that settles into his cheeks.

A smile dances on his lips when he tells you "Okay."

[abysshare]

I feel like this needs to be said but i feel like I'll just be talking to a brick wall for the billionth time.

The ableism of disabled villains in fandom is so beyond tiring. Its bad enough when a grey or protag character gets it.

Today I'll be using Curly from Mouthwashing and William Afton from FNAF as an example.

Curly, isn't really a grey character. Maybe more of a protag, but since we play as Jimmy for most of it, he is kind of an antag. But for this post i will be putting him as a protag. Which reminder.

Protag doesn't mean good guy exactly.

Anyway.

Captain Curly is a burn survivor as well as a disabled man, with no skin, no hands or feet, and is left with one eye. The damage is pretty bad, and the Nurse ( Anya ) has done the best she could with what she had, which is pretty damn good considering all things.

How does the fandom treat him? Its a mixed bag but of course. Ableism.

They either give him "dog buttons", or infantalize him, coquette-ify him, erase the situation just because "its easier" or whatever else. And then theres some people who genuinely try by getting him to a proper hospital so Anya or another doctor can try and fix what they can, as well as give him an AAC device or a wheelchair, so on and so forth.

Its either shit as unfortunately expected or good enough that makes people genuinely do research or call out ableism.

Now lets look at William Afton. A villain, murderer, mad scientist and so forth. For this post I'll be strictly talking about The Fourth Closet William Afton and Burntrap.

For those who are not into FNAF. The Fourth Closet is a seperate timeline from the games, an AU. And Burntrap is TECHNICALLY not William now, but when Security Breach came out, we didn't know this.

A bit more backstory for those who do not know. William has an Animatronic suit that he can go into to perform or kill, but it has these things called springlocks. If something happens, they can go off and hurt and eventually kill him.

Moving on.

William Afton is a Springlock Victim ( and even though no fire happens in the book before the ending of The Fourth Closet, i would argue and say he does indeed have burn scars as well in the graphic novel ) aka ragged Metal throughout his skin.

As Burntrap, he is a metal burned skeleton with leftovers of Springtrap/Scraptrap with burnt flesh.

How does the fandom treat both versions of him?

As Burntrap: some people like him, some don't. Its purely because at the first reveal we all thought it was William himself somehow even though he is supposed to be dead-dead for real. His design CAN be cool, scary and great in the right spotlight.

However.....

Most people took the "haha peepaw" route of memes. Some being ageist and some being ableist. Making him a senile old man in a wheelchair or a walker with Vanny being his caretaker. Most of the time throwing him down the stairs or beating him with his mobility aid or threatening to. Sometimes they would also draw him in diapers with poop in it.

Utterly disgusting, ageist and ableist behavior all because this is a villain.

How do they treat TFC version of William? Well.... i don't see much of him to be frank. But either its coquette-ifying him ( which is just as gross as coquette-ifying Curly ), genuinely calling him pretty or being absolutely being ableist/rancid, or removing his scars all together.

What is the point I'm getting at?

If its a villain, like William, to Darth Vader to Hordak from the She Ra remake, to Belos from TOH.......

They get mocked for their disabilities because abled folks ( and even some disabled folks ) thinks the Villain or whoever deserves it as punishment.

But these same people will turn around and infantilize and baby, or dogify or coquetteify "good guy" disabled characters.

I haven't seen this in the Arcane fandom, while i don't doubt people have been ableist to Jinx, Silco or Viktor , at least it isn't as "loud".

Ableism isn't cute or funny. And while i UNDERSTAND these are characters- and that they are not real.

It HURTs real people.

And I'm talking as a disabled chronic pain person, so don't even start with me.

Ableists and shit will be deleted, ty.

Edit ( 12 / 9 / 2024 ): to add to this, i still see people making jokes, especially to make self shippers feel bad ( those who self ship with springtrap ), about how William most likely passed human fluids and gasses as he died-

Yeah. News flash: you do that no matter how you die. Even later in a casket as you're rotting away.

Now.. the act of him doing that as he dies isn't ableist within itself. But the fact that these people using the bit of him urinating and defecating himself as a joke Is ableist as there are folks with disabilities that can't control it, and there is no shame in that.

Also if you're trying to say "Springtrap smells like literal shit". Consider people already know this and either ignore that ( which is valid ) or yk. Have their insert take Springtrap home and clean him up and fix him.

Or have Springtrap clean himself up ( i imagine he does by the time he become Scraptrap, as best as he can anyway ).

.

As for Curly, i am seeing a lot of Videos that are finally talking about it. Thank the gods, moon, whatever.

Mouthwashing is one of those things you really don't need to ship anyone with anyone ( if you must i highly suggest making an oc because thats awesome ).

On top of that though I'm still seeing ableist art of Curly and probably will for awhile 😮‍💨

[808airsoftbros]

Irresistable Temptations (Miyeon/Sana) (S) (BXG)

Y/N’s POV

What was supposed to be a peaceful sleep after a long night of working at my job was interrupted when my phone kept ringing from a wave of notifications.

I need to put that damn thing on sleep mode or else Imma fucking lose it...

Rubbing my eyes, I grabbed my phone and switched it on to see the notifications board to see over five missed calls from Miyeon and Sana.

“What do they want now?” I asked myself.

Using Face ID to unlock my phone, I go into the messaging apps and text in the group chat to ask why on Earth did they call me so early?

“Y/N, you want to go the beach with us?”

“Come on, I’ll be fun~😉“

“Ugh fine what time?”

“Sana and I are driving to your house rn will be there in about five”

Good fucking grief couldn’t they have informed me earlier? Now I have five fucking minutes to get myself dressed and packed.

Sprinting up from my bed, I used mouthwash instead of brushing my teeth as all that mattered was having fresh breath in the morning, and changing into my swimming trunks.

I put on a comfortable and nice T-shirt, I packed up some sunscreen, water, snacks, and of course a change of clothes.

Hearing my phone ringing, I looked at the screen, and Miyeon texted that she just pulled up at the front of my house.

Grabbing my bag, I checked last minute to ensure I didn’t forget anything, and I ran outside through the front door.

On the driveway in front of my porch was Miyeon’s car, she tells me to hurry up and get inside, and I hop inside the back seat.

“Good morning, Y/N~!” Sana greeted and I sighed.

“You two couldn’t have told me earlier that will be going to the beach today?” I asked and she pouted.

“Sorry, Y/N, we were supposed to tell you yesterday but we forgot and to be fair, you kind of overslept,” Miyeon replied.

Starting up the engine, she takes off the parking brake, we were on our way to the beach.

Looking at the time, it was nearly six in the morning, and the sun hasn’t exactly risen just yet.

The drive was about fifteen minutes long, when we arrived at the beach parking lot it was as empty as a ghost town as everyone is still asleep at this hour.

Parking at the closest stall possible, we get out of the car, grab our stuff from the trunk, and walked to a spot on the sand.

We placed the beach towel, set up the umbrella, and chairs, and put our bags on the towel.

I take off my shirt revealing my toned abs, and I can’t help but be proud of myself as I’ve been deadlifting for a couple of years.

However, I was slightly flustered and turned on as the girls removed their tank tops and shorts revealing their swimsuits, and it's clear they take pride in their bodies as their idols.

Shrugging it off, I put on some sunscreen on my body starting with my arms and legs as the girls do the same.

But I can’t lie that I did catch some glances of their bodies as their bikini tops don’t exactly cover up their breasts that much.

“Need some help, Y/N?” Sana offered and I nodded.

Squirting some sunscreen gel onto her hands, she spreads it all over my back and gives me a little massage and it felt nice and relaxing.

Suddenly, I felt something grabbing my crotch and I opened my eyes to see Sana’s hand and I turned around to see her smirking at me.

“No. No. No. Bad Sana.” I said as I take her hand away from my pride and she pouted.

“Come on, Sanake you’re going to make the baby nervous~,” Miyeon said as she cracked open a can of juice.

After that, we all watched the sun rising from the horizon slowly turning night into dawn but there were some unexpected complications.

“Hey there, sweethearts, what you two doing here this early~?” I see a couple of shitbags saying.

“Sorry, not interesting,” Miyeon brushed them off.

“Come on, we can have some fun~,” One of the clowns persisted.

Getting up from the towel, I hastily approached them and didn’t hesitate to punch that idiot’s nose so hard that he fell over.

“Who the hell do you think you clowns are? We were just enjoying the sunrise until you two dickheads ruined it.” I angrily said.

“Asshole, how dare you?!” The other clown asked as he tried to punch me but I parry and grabbed his arm.

“Last chance to walk away, bud...” I threatened.

“Or else what?” He sarcastically asked and I twisted his arm.

“AAAAAAHHHHH!!! YOU FUCKING PSYCHO!!!” He cried in pain.

“Maybe you should’ve thought twice before sexually harassing these two girls, huh, dumbass?” I sarcastically asked.

With the two dickfaces having enough pain being inflicted on them, he picks his friend up, runs away, and I sighed in relief.

“T-Thank you, Y/N, those two were probably saesang fans,” Sana nervously said.

“No worries, I’d never let those creeps lay their dirty hands on any of you,” I replied and she blushed.

Enjoying the rest of the sunset, despite it being ruined by those two saesangs, we chilled as there was nobody here but us.

However, the girls asked if I could take some pictures for them and of course, I obliged but looking through the camera I can’t help but get even more flustered and I started to get turned on a little.

I took a few pictures of them together and behind as the bottom bikini piece reveals their ass cheeks causing my thing down there to act up.

“Fucking hell, come on, this is not a good time...” I said to my horny ass.

“Are you okay over there, Y/N? You look nervous and your face is so red. Did you put sunscreen on your face?” Sana asked and I gulped.

“Uhm...” I replied as I touched my face but didn’t feel any sunburns.

The two girls looked at each other and they smirked as they knew what was going on.

“Looks like our baby, needs some help down there~,” Miyeon pointed at my bulge and I blushed.

“Ah, crap...” I said to myself.

Miyeon and Sana then pushed me onto the towel before pinning me down and I didn’t do anything to resist as my brain was having an aneurysm.

Miyeon latches her lips onto mine while Sana was rubbing my trunks making my dick go even longer and harder.

“S-Shouldn’t we do this somewhere more private?” I worriedly asked.

“Don’t worry, honey, nobody else is here and it’s only a quickie so will be done way before anyone gets here~,” Miyeon assured before taking off her bikini top revealing her medium-sized mounds.

Without any hesitation, I sucked her right tit as I massaged her left book causing her loudly moan.

“Mmmm~. You love my tits don’t you baby boy~?” She asked before continuing to moan.

After Sana rubbed my trunks and my dick going hard as it could, she pulls down my trunks revealing my ten-inch rod making her mouth drool.

Instantly, she takes my length into her mouth and I felt her warmth as her tongue and lips were around my dick it felt amazing being blown by one of the hottest Kpop Idols in the industry.

Miyeon gets off of me, straddles on top of me, moves her bikini piece aside revealing her cleanly shaved womanhood, and slowly inserts it inside making her moan like crazy.

Feeling her walls tightly grip my cock was one of the best feelings ever to fuck an Idol as it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

“Ughhhh~. Why do you have to be so big, baby~?” She moaned as she rides me.

“Does he feel good, Miyeon?” Sana whispered and she viciously nodded.

“Ah, I’m so close, I’m going to cum~,” She warned before squirting all over my dick and she gets off of me.

“My turn now~,” Sana said as she straddles on top of me and takes off her whole swimsuit revealing her nude body resembling a Goddess.

Slamming her pussy onto my cock without any warning at all, I bit my lip as a wave of ecstasy crashed into my mind.

Sana rides rougher than Miyeon did as she bounced up and down while leaning forward for me to play and suck her mounds.

It didn’t take long until she finally came but I still haven’t cum yet but the two Goddesses were going to take care of that.

Sana gets off of me before going down to dick and they opened their mouths while jerking me off waiting for me to cum.

After a few more pumps, I shot a wave of strings of my cum into their mouths and all over their face making me lose my breath.

“Mmmm~. You taste so good, baby, thank you for the meal~,” Sana said as she licked the cum from her lips.

“We can do this whenever you like baby, and consider us as your girlfriends since we’ve been waiting for this chance for a long time~,” Miyeon whispered into my ear sending chills down my spine.

“But if we catch you flirting with another girl, we will make you regret it~. Understand, baby~?” Sana asked and I gulped.

“Y-Yes, Noona...” I nervously answered and she smiled.

“Hehe, now come on, baby, let’s get dressed up before everyone arrives and sees us naked, we don’t want that leaking on Dispatch do we?” Miyeon mentioned and we nodded.

Putting on their swimsuits, I slide my trunks back on just in time before the rest of the people come to join us at the beach.

When a few hours pass by, we decided to pack things up as we all began to starve and want to eat somewhere.

But just as I was going to enter the men’s bathroom, the two girls pulled me into the family bathroom and we changed together.

After we finished getting on our normal clothes, the girls put on black surgical masks to hide their identities, and we put our things inside the trunk before going into her car.

“Now, where shall we eat~?” Miyeon asked.

“How about pizza?” Sana proposed.

“Sure, pizza sounds good right about now,” I agreed and she nodded.

“Alright, pizza it shall be!” Miyeon confirmed as she opened the dominos app to order the pizza.

Author: Hello everyone, hoped you enjoyed that oneshot smut of Miyeon and Sana as this was another idea of mine. Also please do consider joining my discord server as I’m looking for new members and friends 🙂

Discord link: https://discord.io/808AirsoftBros

[thefandomenchantress]

I was going to do a post about my overall thoughts on Mouthwashing after I watched a playthrough, but I got a little carried away talking about one specific point, so I figured I'll ramble here and do that later.

(WARNINGS: Mentions of SA, overdosing, guns and death) (And Jimmy in general)

Jimmy is a terrible person (sorry I know it's tradition not to say his name but I'm too lazy to think up something silly to call him every time I refer to him haha). I loved how they used the unreliable narrator trope with him, and how the deaths sorta reflect his (negative) growth in the story and overall themes and stuff.

First, Anya dies. Her death is one Jimmy can easily pretend isn't his fault, even though he's most of, if not the reason she died. He SA'd her and got her pregnant, crashed the ship and forced her to be stuck with him longer, was often rude or hostile towards her, and overall was the main contributor to her deteriorating mental state and her death. But Jimmy can't acknowledge that, so it was her own fault she died. It's not his fault she broke down over every little thing and decided to overdose. And Pony Express was also to blame, right? They laid her off. And Curly's the one who told her that before he was supposed to. So it wasn't completely his fault or even his fault at all, (to Jimmy, I don't believe all this obviously).

Then Daisuke dies. Jimmy has a harder time justifying that it wasn't his fault this time. Jimmy hadn't told Anya to lock herself in Medical and overdose, but it was Jimmy's direct orders that led to Daisuke getting majorly injured. Jimmy, the older, more higher-ranking crew member told him he needed to go along with his plan. Not only that, but Jimmy also manipulated Daisuke by saying that everyone was counting on him and that Swansea would be proud if he pulled this off. For the first time, he acts like he believes Daisuke is capable of doing something right, because now it benefits him. But Jimmy didn't force him to go in the vent, so it wasn't his fault. And how was he supposed to remember Anya said the mouthwash didn't work as disinfectant? Swansea should've waited longer before putting Daisuke out of his misery, he could've fixed it. In fact, Swansea was the reason he was forced to use the disinfectant earlier, so this was Swansea's fault, not his.

Finally, Swansea dies. And this time, Jimmy is undeniably 100% at fault, because he's the one who shot Swansea directly in the face. Swansea was tied up to the chair. Jimmy didn't do it out of self-defense, like what happened in the graveyard minigame. Jimmy stood in front of tied-up, defenseless man who could no longer hurt him, and shot him in the face without hesitation.

Curly's almost the worst of all. Jimmy forced him to suffer as a barely living corpse for months and then made him do things I...Don't particularly want to put in writing. And at the end of it all he assures himself that he's the hero, he did the right thing, because he saved Curly from dying for another twenty years, even though he's the reason the whole crew is in this mess in the first place. All his other heinous actions don't matter anymore, because he finally took responsibility, right?

And I think it's cool that the game slowly makes Jimmy realize that everything is his fault, the crew wouldn't have been stuck here in the first place if it weren't for him. The deaths both show the player Jimmy's true colors over time while forcing Jimmy to finally realize that he is not the victim. He is not better than everyone else. Everything is his fault. And now that he can finally see that...

He needs to take responsibility.

It's just...The sheer AUDACITY of this man. He's so caught up in his own ego it's atrocious. And that makes me love this game so much more, because even if I hate Jimmy with every fiber of my being, this game wouldn't work without him. It wouldn't even be the same game, really. So I guess what I'm saying is that while I hate Jimmy, I loved Mouthwashing.

[dykedvonte]

I think the reason why people doesn't like genderbend AU of mouthwashing especially male Anya is not because they believe men can't get raped but it would remove the whole point of Anya's pregnancy that wouldn't be the same if female Jimmy is the one who's pregnant

I mean the point of the swap is to explore the same themes under a different lens and see how those exact themes can play out in a different scenario.

It is different but it doesn’t remove the point of the pregnancy rather than change the context. I think the confusion is it’s not supposed to be a one to one swap. It is changing things both ways different than other what if aus and swaps. It’s one of those aus that is common in fandom and in games with topics like this that branch off to explore the material in a different light with the same characters in a sense.

I understand not liking it or wanting to focus on the female experience the game is about with Anya but it’s the vitriol and rather blaming comment that made me upset about people being angry. Like it’s so simple to just not even acknowledge it or just mute posts. Tbh the post wasn’t even an au just a hypothetical design and people were getting mad and saying crazy things on it.

Aus are never supposed to just be the same. I don’t know what else to say other than this is like not the first fandom that has had an au of similar nature, I just don’t understand why a lot of people get like hateful when they see something mundane they don’t like here.

[unicyclehippo]

Hmmm...how about a one word prompt of...Skin?

for @possibilistfanfiction i hope it makes u laugh

//

two

//

every week, superion talks to beatrice late tuesday night. at the end of every call, she asks to speak to you and you let her.

are you struggling with anything? she’ll ask, or what has your week been like? or, how are you, ava? she doesn’t ask that one often because it makes you hang up on her fast. like. what the fuck are you supposed to do? she says your name nicely, makes it sound like she wants to know about you, not the halo, and yeah. it’s a bit much to deal with.

‘we went to the thrift shop,’ you tell her week two, ‘and spent half the money you sent us on clothes. beatrice got new pyjamas.’ from the kitchen, beatrice sends you a betrayed look. you wave at her. you’re not going to tell superion that you picked out boxers for her—black, comfortable—and that you think you’re going to have a heart attack every night because beatrice has surprisingly buff legs, toned, and the first time she came out of the bathroom in boxers you had to put your hands under your head, pin them down with your heavy fucking skull so you didn’t touch her legs, her knees. how knees could be sweet, you have no fucking clue, but beatrice’s knees are sweet, soft in repose and then sharp and strong when she moves and. yeah. anyway.

‘i’ve never bought clothes before,’ you tell superion, and beatrice looks startled and a little sad and you laugh because it’s funny, actually, not sad. ‘i stole the hottest dress from this rich lady’s house—um, borrowed, i mean. they don’t really have high fashion here but i picked up some cute stuff. right, bea?’ beatrice ducks her head. ‘she says yes and also wants to know if spending this money means i’m your sugar baby now. or the pope’s. ow! okay, she didn’t say that but she did throw a pen at me. i’m your halobearer, that’s so rude!’

‘phase through it next time,’ beatrice suggests, and almost smiles when you flip her off.

//

‘hello, ava. is there anything you wish to talk about tonight?’

you have been thinking of things to say all week that’ll make superion hang up on you and so, when you pluck the phone out of beatrice’s hand, you’re grinning. she picks up on your energy and excuses herself to the bathroom.

‘so much. where to start? bea has been kicking my ass in training. i think she’s enjoying it. is that allowed? i thought nuns were supposed to not enjoy things.’

‘i’m sure any and all enjoyment pertains to the pleasure all instructors feel when their student shows improvement.’

‘no,’ you muse. beatrice is for sure eavesdropping so you raise your voice a little and say, ‘i think she’s a sadist.’

the bathroom door slides open half an inch, just enough for beatrice to shoot a forbidding look out at you. it’s undermined by the way some of her hair hangs free of her bun and the toothpaste smeared at the corner of her mouth and she’s brushing neatly and you want so badly to squash up next to her and clean your teeth there with her, in your stupidly small bathroom, so you forget all your nun jokes you’ve prepared and say,

‘all good here, supes. catch you next week,’ and hang up on her.

beatrice is in boxers that show off her knees. her sleep shirt is tucked into the waistband of her boxers, which is so endearing you think you might explode. you press your fingers to her hip and nudge her away from the sink so you can get in there and wet your brush. you do the same thing every night. she ought to know by now. she does know by now. you think she wants you to touch her, to lay your hand gently on her hip and make her space into your space. the toothpaste is minty and froths up as you brush enthusiastically. beatrice swishes her mouthwash. puts her hand on your wrist. you obediently shuffle away from the sink so she can spit neatly into it. 

‘short conversation with mother superion tonight.’

you shrug. ‘tired, i guess.’ it’s half true. you would have happily made a nuisance of yourself but tonight, you just want to brush your teeth next to beatrice and go to bed.

‘am i pushing you too hard?’

you consider the question. tuck your hair behind your ears so it doesn’t get in the way when you bend, spit into the sink too, like beatrice did. rinse. wash your brush, strick it into the polka dot toothbrush holder on the counter.

‘i want to learn. i’ll do whatever i have to do.’ beatrice eyes you like you’ve said something really interesting, which is worrisome because you don’t know what about that was interesting. ‘bedtime. wanna be little spoon tonight?’

beatrice goes pink at the offer and you can’t resist lifting a hand to her cheek, to touch it. she doesn’t pull away, but her eyes go wide.

‘sorry.’

‘no, sorry,’ you say almost immediately. ‘um. i’ll check the front door is locked.’ you run out of the bathroom, through to the kitchen and the front door. thunk your head hard against the wood and swear under your breath. blindly reach for the door handle. turn it gently. it hits the lock and you release it. you stand there for a few long minutes, hearing the sounds of the bedsheets and beatrice shuffling and the click of the lamp turning off and then the apartment is dark and still and there’s a longing right on the centre of your tongue, dry and empty like a wafer sucking the moisture from your mouth, and you want to pick up the phone and tell superion, i want to live. i don’t want beatrice to teach me how to fight, i don’t want you to know my name, i want this to be real. a home in the mountains and a girl who wants me to touch her. 

beatrice pretends to be asleep when you finally join her, crawling into bed and pulling the sheets up to your shoulders. you’re always careful about touching her, when and where you do it, and tonight is no exception.

‘bea?’ you whisper.

‘yes, ava?’

‘can i –‘ you reach over. hover your hand over her forearm.

beatrice shuffles in the bed. the lamps in the street outside are dim and they have covers that keep the light shining down to the street instead of filling the sky. it’s not enough to see beatrice by. you light the halo—the tiniest bit—and her expression goes awed and nervous all at once.

‘you shouldn’t.’

touch her? use the halo?

‘i want to. feels good.’ beatrice breaths out. she won’t say it, and won’t ask you, but when you move your hand to hover over her wrist, sidle close enough to hold her, she doesn’t stop you. ‘g’dnight, bea.’

‘goodnight, ava. sleep well.’

//

‘good evening, ava. i trust you are well?’

‘we got jobs!’

‘beatrice informed me.’

‘of course she did,’ you roll your eyes. catch sight of the brim of the pink cowboy hat still squashed onto your head you had been given tonight as a prize, the only thing you had wanted. it's a little small, maybe made for a kid, but whatever. ‘did she tell you it’s at a bar? she doesn’t drink but she’s killing it at the books. i don’t have the same hang ups – hans is teaching me everything about being a great bartender and it involves a lot of alcohol. i can – he’s german and i drunk him under the table. i think the halo helped. do you – can the halo heal being drunk, do you think? did i cheat? maybe i should give him this hat back.’

‘i will ask you not to test the limits of the halo in this manner.’

‘i know, i know, control the halo, don’t draw attention, blah blah blah—bea already gave me the speech. i’m being safe. it was just some fun, mother,’ you tease, feeling loose and good and happy. ‘the hat suits me, though. it’s pink.’

superion’s smile bleeds into her voice. you grin, imagining it. a smile on that stern face. that’s the best, that’s one of the things you love the most, making people smile, making people laugh, especially when you have to find the right way to come at it. this feels almost too easy? you’re just…telling her about your day and your job and the hat you won but you know that she’s smiling and you’re a little drunk so you decide not to think about whether she likes you or is showing some softer side of herself for your benefit and just enjoy it. 

‘you are entitled to some fun, ava.’

‘tell bea that. and her too. she can have fun too. she doesn’t have to drink, just relax a tiny bit. right?’

‘sister beatrice will attend her duty as she sees fit, you know that. and,’ she adds dryly, ‘i believe she is more likely to listen to you when it comes to relaxation.’

‘what you’re saying is i need to convince her. i need to tempt her.’

superion sighs. ‘drink some water, please, ava. look after yourself. and beatrice.’

‘yeah, always.’

//

there’s a girl who comes to your bar to flirt with you specifically. you know that because she told you, because she pressed her teeth to the pink of her lip and pressed against the hardwood bar, leaning over it to give you a good—really good—view of her chest and for a second you’d forgotten that there was anyone else in the bar when she looked at you so intently. and she told you.

‘you know i’ve been flirting with you, right?’

‘you? no way, this is a huge surprise,’ you’d teased, because she’s been super unsubtle.

the other night, she’d let the condensation from her beer bottle drip onto her chest and asked so sweetly for a napkin and laughed when you went tongue-tied and clumsy, dropping the cocktail shaker. which was fine because it was empty but it had clanged on the stone floor and hans had looked over with this stupidly knowing grin and only laughed when you flipped him off. 

‘sometimes girls don’t know,’ she’d shrugged. ‘and i don’t like to waste my time. you like girls?’

you spin the beer bottle in your hand, because it’s a fun trick and because it makes girls look at your hands. dani is no exception. you haven’t said it out loud before but you want to. should you wait for a special moment? or does the moment become special when you say it?

‘girls are incredible,’ is what you end up saying. it’s not that you’re scared, it’s just that beatrice isn’t here and some part of you kind of expected to say it to her first, the way she’d shared that with you. 

dani doesn’t take it as a cop out, thank god. she grins, big and bold, and tosses her hair back over her shoulder. ‘yeah. incredible. let me take you out, ava—dinner, dancing, drinks. what do you say?’

you should say no. for multiple reasons, but chief among them the fact that when dani used her water on her tits trick, you’d thought about beatrice and what her reaction would be if you tried it on her. probably, it’s a dick move to think about another girl when one is being so kind as to show you her tits. but. beatrice is a nun and dani is not. super not. she’s portuguese and taller than you—most people are, to be fair—and you like that the bar is lifted over where the customers sit so she has to look up at you, but you also like looking up at her and the way she crowds you a little, smirks down at you when you sit a little sluttily on the barstool next to her, hand on her knee. she wears, like, a dozen silver rings and her earrings dangle and glitter when she shakes her head, which she does when you make her laugh really hard, and when you think about kissing her it’s, yeah. good. it makes you a little tongue-tied and you stumble over your words and dani looks at you like she knows what you were thinking about which is. yeah. good. 

you say yes.

//

'—compromising our mission here, compromising the halo, compromising herself—'

'whoa! where does the halo come into this? i'm not whipping my top off for her, it's a date.'

beatrice glares at you. she's standing tall and straight—well, rigid—and with the dark clouds gathering outside the window you're a little worried god will mistake her for a lightning rod, but mostly you're worried that you've actually hurt her by agreeing to go on this date. but then she goes and says,

'this is a stupid risk, you can't just - just--'

and you hate being called stupid so instead of trying to calm her down, you rise up to meet her. 'just what? say yes when a girl asks me out?'

'yes!'

'why not?' beatrice glares over your head, unable to meet your eyes. 'give me the phone.'

'what? no!'

'yes, give me the phone.'

'i'm still debriefing mother s—'

'give me the phone or i'll debrief on my date,' you tell her, and you can feel the anger and spite spitting on your tongue and sparking in your eyes. now she does meet your eyes; hers are black with fury, her jaw tense, and you're doubly pissed because you'd said yes to the date because dani is hot and has this quick flirty humour and because she looked at you like she could eat you up and it's a hell of a feeling to be on the receiving end of a look like that, but beatrice... beatrice is pissed and you're nearly positive it isn't because of the mission, and god, whatever your rules are about thinking nuns are hot, she looks hot with her jaw clenched and the muscles of her neck and shoulders tense like she's thinking about keeping you from the door by whatever means necessary. but she is a nun and you're not an asshole, or entirely selfish, so you said yes to dani because if you can't kiss the girl you like, you should be able to kiss a girl you like. right? 

beatrice flicks a look over your outfit—high-waisted jeans, a shirt that shrunk in the one laundry load you did so now it shows off a decent strip of belly, and a blue sweater tied around your waist that you'd found over the back of the couch, in case it ends up raining—and she scowls.

'fine. fine.'

she grabs your wrist. your skin sears where she touches you—god, is this allowed? is this allowed? i'm gonna be thinking about this tonight in my alone time, is this allowed, dude?—and you open your hand, you'll take whatever she'll give you. you're so startled by her hand on you that you forget to be angry. if she weren't a nun, if she were a little more open, if she liked you the way you like her... 

she drops the phone into your hand. it’s heavy and you nearly drop it, focused on—god forgive you, or better yet, mind your own fucking business dude—her. ask me out. ask me on a date. look at me like you want to push me against the brick wall outside where we work together and kiss me. she must see some of that in your eyes because she drags in a shaky breath and all the anger leaves her. she doesn’t move away. you look at her lips. 

‘ava…’

your thumb flickers to mute the phone. ‘tell me not to go.’

beatrice huffs. ‘you want to.’

‘i’ll stay. i won’t go. if you ask.’

her hand goes to your hip. you want to know how much of her hand can fit there, on your skin where your top rides up. but she doesn’t touch you, even though you’re aching for it, even though she can see that you’re aching for it. it’s like there’s an invisible barrier that blocks her from moving those last few centimetres. 

‘i’m taking a shift tonight,’ she says. ‘hans is sick.’

‘oh.’

‘i won’t be home. after. i’ll be back tomorrow,’ she says hurriedly, before your heart can totally break. ‘but not tonight.’

‘i’m not bringing her home. you know that, right?’

‘it would be fine if you did,’ beatrice lies, and pushes past you into the kitchen to collect her things. 

you let her go. lift the phone to your ear. 

‘hey. what’s the company policy on halobearers going out with girls? also, like, your personal policy. not that it fucking matters, i’m gonna do it anyway, but i suppose i’m curious. lesbians…thoughts?’

beatrice slams the front door behind her. 

superion doesn't talk straight away—ha. you hear a chair dragging on stone and then a creak as she sits. 

'well,' she says, and you forget about beatrice as much as you can because superion doesn't sound angry or disgusted. only considering. and this question isn’t totally about beatrice, it’s about you too, and you don’t care what superion thinks of you, you don’t. but. 'there is nothing written to specifically bar halobearers from dating girls.' nuns, on the other hand, she doesn't say but you hear it loud and clear. 'as for my personal policies... they revolve around, and are cemented in, caring for and protecting my order and my girls.’

‘what kind of protection?’

‘physical and emotional strength is paramount, as you know. if you are being safe, and if it is something that will make you happy, then i have no reason to forbid it.’

you think on that for a minute. then, in a small voice you don’t recognise, you ask her, ‘are you excited for me? can you be excited for me?’ tears sting your eyes and the back of your throat prickles with heat like you’ve drunk hot sauce again, or whiskey, and before superion can say anything, you break in again with, ‘i’m going to be late,’ kind of brusquely. ‘bye.’

//

after dinner and dancing and drinks, all the things she had promised, dani offers to walk you home. 

you lean back against a lamppost and wind your fingers into the lapels of her lilac blazer and tug her forward, kiss her eagerly. the streetlight is almost the same warm gold as the halo, which is snug and silent between your shoulders. dani tastes like coffee, from her espresso martini. she kisses you, bold and unafraid. you’ve thought a couple times tonight about going home with her and you think about it again now, about letting her walk you home, about holding her hand as you let her into the apartment and pushing the same hand down the front of your jeans, into the underwear you bought new for precisely this reason, to where you’re slick between your legs and wanting but–

‘this was fun,’ you tell her, panting just a little. 

she groans. kisses your jaw, your neck. fuck. ‘why does it sound like you’re saying goodnight?’

‘i - well - you’re making it fucking hard -’ you say, and laugh, and your stomach twists a little because if you had said that to bea she would press her lips together and shake her head and the way her laugh escapes as a huff makes you feel like you could walk over oceans, shoot up into the fucking sky. you make that joke in front of dani and she laughs, sure, but then half a second later her teeth are on your skin over your pulse and neither of you are thinking about the joke. which is fair. but while you want dani to touch you, she doesn’t make you feel like you can take on the world. she kiss you again. puts her hands on your waist, thumbs sliding up to brush over your belly. hands sliding up until her thumbs are dipping beneath your shirt, fingers wrapping around your hips, and you feel fucking incredible, delicate and wanted and hot. but. 

‘dani, fuck -’

‘yeah, i know, saying goodnight.’ she sounds pretty wrecked too, which is a huge boost to your self-esteem because all you’re doing is clinging to her but apparently that’s fine. ‘you’re sure i can’t walk you to your door?’

‘if you walked me back, i’d take you upstairs,’ you tell her, and put a hand to her chest, push her gently away. ‘which - i had a lot of fun, but i can’t.’

dani nods. ‘text me when you get home though.’

‘of course, yeah.’

she takes a step back. out of the halo of the streetlight. you rake your eyes over her—she turned up in matching lilac blazer and slacks with this tiny white crop under the blazer and perfectly white sneakers, a few silver necklaces—and it reminds you a little of seeing doctor salvius for the first time, honestly, in her full pantsuit moment, and maybe you have a thing for women who look like they know what the fuck they want and how to get it. 

‘fuck.’

‘baby, i’m trying.’

you flip her off and push away from the lamppost. ‘thanks for tonight. i had a really good time.’

she smiles and watches you leave. you look back when you reach the end of the road and she’s still there, waves. 

by the time you get into the apartment, you’re considerably more drunk than you’d felt when you left the bar. you get the door unlocked, kick it closed behind you, and text dani as you struggle out of your jeans, kicking them vaguely in the direction of the wardrobe.

made it home thx for tonight

she doesn’t answer immediately. which is fair, she was drunk too and maybe she went back into the bar or whatever and you don’t really care but beatrice isn’t home and the apartment is quiet and cold and you’re standing pantless in the middle of the room and there’s a sinking feeling in your gut when you realise that you’re sad. it’s not fair. it’s not fair. 

the phone is hidden away under a loose floorboard, because of course it is. you hear the wood snap as you peel it up. you’re alive and super strong and drunk and it's fine, the phone shouldn't be hidden away anyway, you shouldn't be hidden away. you pull it out, call the only number programmed into this stupid, bulky phone. 

‘beatrice?’ 

‘no, it’s me.’

‘ah, ava. hello.’ 

you climb to your knees, push onto your feet. she sounds fine that you’ve called, totally unbothered. ‘i’m not struggling,’ you tell her. 

‘i’m glad to hear it.’

‘i’m fine.’ 

she’s quiet. you think about her towering over you. i know you killed yourself. you are a coward. you think about her standing in front of you, putting herself between you and harm. you are worthy. you are. 

‘i’m fine,’ you say again, anger hot on your tongue, hot down your spine. ‘i’ve been fine this whole fucking time but you keep asking so, so if you don’t believe me, let me tell you and maybe you’ll listen this time. i am fine. i’m not struggling. we’re hiding away from the fight and camila is in danger all the time and mary is gone and you - you talk to me but you don’t know me! you don’t know anything about me, and i know you don’t because you still think i’m going to run, or kill myself, but i never did, i never did and i won’t so stop asking me about my fucking life.’

‘ava,’ 

‘and stop saying my name! scolding me? poor crippled girl out on the streets—i have a job! i have friends! i’m really not fucking interested in what you think of me! fuck. you’re all the same. you nuns…you think b-because i’m not on my knees, crying and praying that i’m not grateful? i died! i’m alive! i’m grateful. you want me to thank you? you w-want me to learn how to be perfect from bea so that i’m worthy of the halo? so you don’t decide you’ve had enough of me? lighten the fucking burden of me? fuck perfection, fuck worthiness, fuck your god, and fuck your halo!’ you yell into the phone. anger stings your lungs; there’s not enough space around it for all the air you need. 

‘breathe, ava.’ superion’s voice is muffled by distance and the crackling of the phone line and the dizzy swirl of your head. ‘ava,’ she says more sharply. ‘breathe.’

you breathe in. 

‘good. again.’

you breathe in again, til your chest hurts with it. stumble over to the couch and curl into the arm of it, hand on your chest, feeling the trembling of your muscles, the desperation of your body to breathe, to live. 

superion can hear when you settle a little. ‘i am sorry. my questions have never been about doubt.’ you scoff. ‘if you had come to the OCS another way, i would have asked you these things. i would have taken the time to know you. it is not doubt, ava.’

‘then what the fuck is it?’

‘it is care.’

‘fuck you.’

‘ava,’ 

‘no! fuck you. you’re not my mother.’ you want to cry. you want your scars back. you want anything that tells you you’ve been wanted even once, even if it’s that—a sick, dreamy, drowning memory of a twisting road by the ocean, and scars where a parade of people worked to save your life. your skin is blemish free. ‘i had a mother.’ you pick yourself up from the couch. slam through the kitchen cupboards until you find the vodka hans gifted you. you pour a shot into a stripey mug, clear liquid sloshing onto the tabletop. ‘i had a mother and she died and you’re not her. and the nun who cared for me killed me twice, you know. so. fuck.’ you throw back the shot. it stings. ‘you’re not my mother and i hate your stupid god and you don’t get to care about me. i don’t care. i don’t care. it’s not fair. my mum would—i could’ve told her, i could’ve come home to her. hey mum, i went on a date with a girl tonight and it was really nice. but i can’t tell her because she’s dead and you’re a shitty substitute.’

you drink again. and then—because the anger doesn’t feel as good as you hoped it would and doesn’t do anything about the sadness unspooling in your stomach, glossy and tangled like the tape out of a cassette—you twist the cap back onto the vodka and set it back into the cupboard. 

superion says, ‘i’m not your mother. that’s true. but i am here to listen to you, and guide you. and i was unduly harsh on you but there is no doubt in my mind or my heart that you are worthy, not only of the halo but of the extraordinary life you will lead. and i am sorry that you cannot kiss someone and go home and call your mother.’

you’re standing, still pantless, in the kitchen and superion is being nice to you when you’ve just yelled at her more than you’ve yelled at anyone, ever. you sniffle. ‘a girl. kiss a girl and call my mother.’

‘yes. a girl.’

‘that’s important.’

‘i understand.’

‘it’s scary,’ you admit. ‘but it’s really awesome. and - and i don’t want to give any time to people and the church who think it’s a sin, i really don’t. because there are people who think - who have been made to think that it is a sin, that they’re bad and they’re not. they’re really wonderful, they’re beautiful and incredible and good. and i know you have faith in something, i don’t want - i don’t want to disrespect that - you love god and that’s cool or whatever. but if god has a plan for me, it’s shitty and it hurt and it’s not fair and i don’t want - i don’t believe in anything that cruel, i’m not going to and you can’t make me.’ you’re really tired all of a sudden. and very drunk. ‘i want my mum. do you have - you can talk to the pope, right? can he talk to god for me? can he make sure my mum is happy? i don’t believe but i think she did. can you - can you tell me if she’s happy? do you think she’d be proud of me?’

superion’s voice is thick with something you are too drunk to decipher. ‘yes, ava. she would.’ you feel turned inside out. like she’s touching raw, exposed nerves when she says, ‘thank you for talking to me.’

‘had to get drunk ‘n’ sad to do it. hooray.’ 

‘please drink some water and ensure the door is locked.’

‘’kay.’ you shuffle around to lock the door. pour a glass of water. it spills a little down your front but, whatever, it’s just water. ‘okay,’ you say again when you’re done. ‘sorry. for yelling.’

‘you are forgiven. and ava… you are fine. you are good. you do not believe, but i do, that God has made you in His image.’

‘wow. god’s really hot, huh? that’s cool.’ 

//

you sleep. beatrice is home when you wake up, sitting at the kitchen table with a book, a bowl of cut-up fruit, and a croissant. you don’t have a headache—thanks, halo—but your mouth is dry like you’ve eaten a mouthful of fucking sand and when you stumble out of bed to dunk your head in the kitchen sink, drinking straight from the table, she watches you, hawk-eyed. 

it’s only when you stand, wipe your chin with your wrist, and flop into the chair opposite beatrice, stealing a piece of her fruit, that you realise you are pantless. without pants. 

the tips of beatrice’s ears are red. her jaw is tight. ‘please put your pants away when you take them off,’ she says, and turns the page of her book even though you’re pretty sure she wasn’t done reading the last one. 

‘uh. yeah. i will.’

her finger taps against the spine of the book. ‘did you - was it fun?’

‘yeah.’ 

‘good. i’m glad.’ beatrice pushes the croissant over to you. ‘pain au chocolat,’ she says, and you realise that the croissant isn’t hers, it’s yours, she bought it for you because she never buys herself chocolate croissants. you think of her standing in the beautiful, warm bakery after a stupid long shift and buying you a pastry to eat after you went on a date with another woman and she watches your hands for a while as you split the croissant, which flakes between your fingers, smears buttery goodness everywhere. you break off a tiny bit and hold it out to her. ‘it’s  for you,’ she says, shakes her head. 

‘try it.’

she gives in. she gives in, beautiful when she does it. hungry. takes the little piece and pops it between her lips, which curl upwards, pastry melting, chocolate melting on her tongue. there’s a bit of pastry on her lip and the whole room is full of light. 

[jils-things]

over all thoughts i suppose? (spoilers, and knowing the kind of genre that mout.hwashing offers, these warnings can apply here. i tried not to say it so bluntly but do keep in mind if you're sensitive to it)

ITS SO LONG IM SORRY

this might come off as very rushed because its 12am and i have school sooo wkakdkks but but man. might not word stuff correctly and im sorry in advance but here goes

this game is one of those stories which really emphasizes on the fact that no one is really truly a winner or hero. one of the reasons why i love dark content such as this, is cuz of how people can go from being the kindest person, to the worst person alive and its all because of an event that is uncontrollable. man vs nature kind of plot device. the way they eventually get peeled off of their humanity just to protect themselves is... just something to stare in awe at. makes you think. tbh this line is most applicable to jimmy. hes a fuckin beast that i am afraid of

ive said this before, but this game really reminds me of lisa the pa.inful. the characters are forced into an uncontrollable situation, has this one consumable that is always present in the story (the mouthwash/the joy pill) and dealing with other people who cope with the situation differently. some are positive, some are neutral, or even worse

before i continue - i Do Not Like Jimmy. I do not respect him and I don't want to ever put him in a good light. so keep that in mind as i ponder about this.

jimmy is an incredibly complex character, i just wanna applaud the way he was written here - he's utterly detestable and flawed and yet he thinks he's doing the right thing. i hate to say it but he really helped make the story so. toe curling and unnerving. its insane. i really don't know where to start with this man but he clearly wants to be someone he's not. he's jealous of curly for being the superior leader, the one everyone relies on. the one in control. something he wishes he had. so when he actually does assume the role of captain, he starts to get so upset that he's failing to be their captain even if he wanted it. its so. its so petty like it seriously says a lot about him. he just wants to be feared YET he jumps the gun on everything AND doesn't want to be held accountable on what he does and blames it on everyone else. he just wants his hands to be clean. too bad. you are FLAWED everywhere. he's such a manipulator too, and i bet you that's why he wants to be in control. to let people do his bidding and if they fail, its their fault. not his. eeugg. i still will not forget his gaslighting towards daisuke on the vent scene. because of this, daisuke hurt himself SO bad. as if that wasnt it. fucking jimmy thought it was a good idea to THROW MOUTHWASH on DAISUKE'S BODY hoping it would act like some DISINFECTANT when even ANYA, THE MEDICAL STUDENT said that this is not a GOOD DISINFECTANT SUBSTITUTE. again. dude jumped the gun and just fucked around and found out. what happens? swansea is forced to mercy kill him. because of JIMMY'S DUMBASS. incredible fuckin work dude. /SARC.

as much as i am upset over daisuke's death, i dont think he had any chance after that disinfectant. he was practically burning alive and I wouldn't want him to suffer like that. its terrible. its sad even because i think swansea had a little familial bond with him and it probably really hurt him to do him like that. they remind me of hank and connor from dbh. hank was initially distant and mean to connor but through connor's kindheartedness and general innocence, hank couldn't be mean forever. the same can be said for swansea and daisuke. that's how i see it. i also wanna throw my 2 cents here, i feel that swansea is very regretful for not being the most... successful man. especially as a father. i feel that him being with daisuke is his second chance to be a good father figure to someone since he has already failed his own family and wanted to make up for it by teaching daisuke how to be a mechanic (again, reminds me of lisa the p.ainful. brad and buddy. if u know, u know)

i remember somewhere during my gameplay, jim was so angry when anya asked him to do the pill duty on curly. like hello? as captain aren't you supposed to understand your crewmates? why so dismissive? aren't they your responsibility and it's your job to also check on their morale??? why do you think the sweetener is only within captain's restriction? to ensure that everyone's mentally okay! hours go by, i see curly and he says his chad line "as captain, you are all my responsibility" AND I WAS LIKE OKAY THIS MAN GETS IT. HATE HOW THE GOOD ONES GO TOO SOON. CLEARLY JIM IS WAY OUT OF HIS LEAGUE he doesn't deserve that spot its insane he was provided that role. (i am aware of their. friendship :\)

ok ok i know you're gonna say "jil curly isnt that perfect either" YES that's why i said earlier "nobody is truly a hero" we all know that scene when anya confessed what happened to her and what did he do? idk he just says. "ill talk to him" sorry what akdjfhdhd i don't think talking is enough. he needs to be held accountable for that.... oopsie! nopee! jim already fails at being responsible soooo!!!! im sure i can say more for curly but atm ill just. stop there because i would prefer to do a round 2 of the game and then provide more insight

anya is... is a tragedy to me. a girl who had to retake her medical classes only for none of it to be successful, so she's left feeling unconfident knowing shes not really... well versed. but she really is trying her best and it has to be appreciated. the mere fact that curly is still alive is definitely because of her and i think she did amazing. she is a very sweet, and smart woman. i just hate how agaiiin ooh fuckenn jimmy has the gall to see her less of a person and devalue her worth its so djfbfbhdjdjd UGH it must be so overwhelming for her too, as the only woman in the ship it can be really scary. she's lucky to have swansea, daisuke and curly treat her right. except for Him. truly sickening. the fact that he didn't react so much to her ... demise is so ://// arent you at least, perhaps, feeling guilty? (no he's not) (the only nightmare he has of her is the fact she has ... a baby because of Him. yet again. displaying his need to have a perfect record. to have no dirt on himself. but he really does.) i truly feel sorry for her, she didn't want her unsuccessful classes define her capabilities, so she always tries her best to be informed. about the ship, her medical work, and curly of course. i remember when she said "our worst moments doesnt have to define us as monsters" or however it went. i like to think she was also saying this to herself, that even if she's just a nurse and not a doctor, she can still be of help. and it doesn't make her any less credible. i really want to hug her. i noticed she became so nervous and antsy after that subtext had been implied, i feel sorry for her.

daisuke is probably last person to have committed something so serious (iirc) and he was in fact, the victim of something worse. though it doesnt make him the perfect character either because he's just some guy who didnt have a good future ahead of him and just got there because his parents wanted him to be worthy. he was quite insecure about not being useful. (jim exploited that.)

yes daisuke may be irritating to them, but he really means good and he tries not to fight with others. im sure this is also his way of respecting everyone else as he's just an intern and they all collectively know better than his rookie self. he's quite obedient.

i wish i could say more because i really really loved this tragedy from start to finish and I could pinpoint every small detail but... ill just hold myself there hehe

i dont wanna start any arguments or debates abt the charas, i just wanna express how i understand them so far. dont take these for granted since this is all based from my first play and i'd definitely be more informed and well versed if i replayed/took time to read the intricate details

i'm very happy to have checked this game out. i was first exposed to this by jack's video and i immediately put it on watch later, not knowing it would get super popular lolol but im glad to catch up now

[howlingday]

The Schnees Are A-Cawin'

Watts: (Enters) I came as soon as I could! Are you alright?

Jacques: Of course I'm not alright! I haven't been this shaken since our theater production of the Rusted Knight when I forgot my lines!

Watts: You played a rabbit, though. You had no lines.

Jacques: Exactly! I gave three monologues!

Watts: Ah, yes, I recall the standing ovation we received when James strangled you into silence.

Watts: More to the point, what happened here?

Jacques: My wife and I were having an argument. Somehow she found out about my affairs and threatened to divorce me! I went into a blind rage! I grabbed the scarf around her neck and...

Jacques: Well, I guess you could say that in tonight's performance, I was the one to strangle Juniper.

Watts: Adorable, Jacques. I can't wait to read the reviews for this domestic homicide.

Jacques: Wait! Did you hear that?

Watts: It sounds like hippo gargling mouthwash.

Jacques: She's still alive! Quickly! Help her up!

Watts: Of course!

Jacques: ARTHUR, NO! YOU STEPPED ON HER NECK!

Watts: I THOUGHT IT WAS A LUMP IN THE CARPET!

Jacques: YOU KILLED HER!

Watts: WELL YOU KILLED HER FIRST!

Jacques: What are we going to do?! We have to call the police!

Watts: Let's not be hasty, Jacques. Is there anyone else in the mansion right now?

Jacques: No, it's just us. We sent the servants home to allow ourselves some privacy. We've been trying to spice things up in the boudoir.

Watts: I see...

Jacques: In fact, for the first few minutes, she might not have been aware I was attacking her..

Watts: Jacques, I'm going to be sick... Can we please focus on the dead body?

---------------------------------------------------

Jacques: How disturbing!

Watts: Yes, it's supposed to be! It's perfectly believable that she'd hang herself with her own scarf. A fragile end to a fragile woman...

Jacques: They'll see right through it! We'd be better off just confessing!

Watts: Don't be a fool, Jacques! If this got out, it'd be the end of your company!

Jacques: Oh? Is this before or after you've thought of your radio show?

Watts: I have no idea what you're talking about.

Jacques: And I have no idea why you thought this would be a good placement for my recently deceased wife! If she were any more left, she'd be wearing a White Fang mask!

Watts: Stay focused, Jacques! We need an alibi... James and Pietro already know you called me in a panic. We could say you were writing a play and needed help with the ending!

Jacques: I have always wanted to try my hand at a meaty five-act play~.

Watts: Of course, in order to sell our alibi, you'll need to write the whole thing tonight.

Jacques: ...You know, I hear one-act plays are trending right now.

---------------------------------------------------

Jacques: ...and the Rusted Knight's betrayal can begin just before the tea party!

Watts: Brilliant!

Jacques: You know, we really should see about getting this produced!

Watts: Yes, well, first we'll need to get away with murder first... (Enters office)

Jacques: ...

Watts: ...

Jacques: (Whispering) Arthur, did you invite a vagrant into your office?

Watts: (Whispering) Of course not!

Jacques: So he isn't a vagrant?

Watts: No, I didn't invite him! I'll contact security.

Winter: Ah, Dr. Watts... Father... I wanted to introduce you to a... old friend of mine, Qrow Branwen.

Qrow: Hey there, nice to meet ya. Dr. Watts, I heard what you were talking about earlier.

Watts: WHAT?

Qrow: Yeah, on the radio. Caught your show on the way in. Pretty neat stuff! Any chance I could get a tape for my husband? I think he'd get a real kick out of it, knowing that I met THE Dr. Arthur Watts!

Winter: Qrow, just got a call from Ironwood. He needs to speak with you.

Qrow: Ah, duty calls! Hope you don't mind us using your office, Dr. Watts.

Jacques: Arthur, I don't like being in the same room as a bumbling huntsman!

Watts: Don't be ridiculous! You're in the same room as your daughter and James on a near daily basis!

Qrow: Sorry, Ice Queen, but I gotta go. Jimmy needs me to look into a suicide.

Jacques: A- A suicide, you say? Is it a... recent suicide?

Qrow: Hard to say. Coulda been weeks ago, though that's just based on how PALE she looked.

Jacques: ...

Watts: ...

---------------------------------------------------

Jacques: Dealing with the police has been just awful. That Branwen fellow kept asking questions! He even wanted to read my play!

Watts: Did you finish it?

Jacques: Of course not. I just pilfered the plot of the Grimm Brothers. Let's just hope he's unfamiliar.

Watts: Oh, speak of the Grimm... Remember, your wife died; try to look sad.

Jacques: How's this?

Jacques: D8

Watts: Too sad. Remember, you were married to Willow.

Qrow: Hey, Mr. Schnee. Sorry again for your loss. Guess I'm hanging around a bit longer, since this is a homicide.

Jacques: Homicide?! You think my darling Willow was... murdered?!

Qrow: Looks like it, based on the autopsy. And here, look at this carpet we found. See that mark? Looks like the heel of a shoe.

Jacques: So?

Qrow: We found a similar indent UNDER the carpet, right on Mrs. Schnee's neck. Somebody must've killed her and make it look like a suicide.

Watts: Surely you don't think Jacques is responsible?!

Qrow: No, of course not. Mr. Schnee has already been cleared as a suspect.

Watts: He has?

Jacques: I have?

Qrow: Yup. His shoes are similar to the shape, but way too small. We're looking for someone with the same style, but bigger feet.

Watts: D8

Qrow: Are you alright, Dr. Watts?

Jacques: Oh, he's just grieving...

Qrow: Well, I've bothered you long enough. Better get back to work...

Qrow: ...Oh! Uh, just one more thing... Mister Schnee, do you like Mistrali plays?

Jacques: Of course! Who doesn't?

Qrow: Y'know, I grew up in a Mistrali home. Food, art, everything. And when I read your play, I thought, "Hey, this is GREAT! It feels VERY Mistrali!" Kinda reminded me of, uh... The Grimm Brothers.

Qrow: Anyway, that's all. See ya 'round! (Exits)

Jacques: ...ARTHUR, I'M DONE FOR!

Watts: Calm down, Jacques! The worst he can do is out you as a plagiarist!

Jacques: EXACTLY! I'LL BE EJECTED FROM THE ARTS COMMUNITY!

---------------------------------------------------

Watts: Alas, dear listeners, it's time for our break. Stay tuned for our second hour where our topic will be: "Anxiety: Your Body VS Your Life".

Watts: (Sees Qrow) Oh, for the love of...

Watts: Mr. Branwen! What a pleasant surprise!

Qrow: Sorry to bother you, Doc, but I had a question for ya.

Watts: About biology? Because I do have some notes on the negative aspects of alcohol.

Qrow: Thanks, but it's actually about the case. See, there's this loose end I'm trying to tie up, but I'm honestly pretty stumped. But YOU have that terrific brain! You REALLY know how to make people tick! Figured if anybody could solve this, it'd be the great Dr. Arthur Watts!

Watts: Oh, do go on~! ...No, seriously, do go on.

Qrow: One sec, I had it here somewhere... Ah! Here it is! It's about Mr. Schnee's play.

Watts: Yes, I thought it was derivative as well...

Qrow: If Mr. Schnee was writing a play at home, why were the staff under the impression that he'd spend the night at home with his wife?

Watts: Well, most if not all of Jacques' staff are from outside of Atlas, and he usually speaks with passion in Atlesian. Perhaps there was a translation error?

Qrow: ...

Qrow: Yeah, that sounds about right! Thanks for your help, Dr. Watts! (Exits)

Watts: Farewell~!

Watts: (Scowls, Sits in booth) Welcome back, Atlas...

Watts: Cinder, who's our next caller?

Cinder: We have Qrow Branwen on line one.

Qrow: (Via radio) Hey, Doc! I almost forgot! Just one more thing...

---------------------------------------------------

Jacques: I can't take it anymore, Arthur! He's at the opera! He's at the wine club! He's even at my alcoholics anonymous meetings!

Watts: I thought it was only a wino anonymous meeting.

Jacques: IT USED TO BE!

Jacques: He's clearly much smarter than he lets on! Maybe we should come clean now?

Watts: THINK, Jacques! We won't be the only ones who suffer from this! Whitley will be made a pariah by progeny, and without me to employ her, Raven will be forced to return to her life of crime in Mistral!

Jacques: NO!

Watts: And think of the good work we do for this kingdom! Without us, Atlas would fall into the sky and be destroyed!

Jacques: The words are deranged, but the way you say them makes me believe~!

Watts: You forget the kind of pull I have in these cities! Come on my radio show and we'll squash any rumors circulating about this mess. No jury would convict you, regardless of what Qrow Branwen would say!

Jacques: Thank you, Arthur. I feel like celebrating!

Jacques: (Chugs hard liquor)

---------------------------------------------------

Watts: I swear, we could win a High Praise award for this broadcast!

Jacques: Perhaps even a Shmulinger! Which we'd politely decline, of course...

Watts: BRANWEN, YOU TEST MY PATIENCE! Somehow you've got it in your head that WE are responsible for Willow's death! But this harassment will amount to nothing in the absence of EVIDENCE!

Qrow: Gee, sorry to upset you, Dr. Watts. Cinder let me use the booth. Nice girl, that Cinder. Let me in after I told her that I always dreamed of having my own radio show.

Watts: Oh, and what would your show be about? How to cook chili in two ingredients or less?

Qrow: Nah, but I bet I could do a pretty good show about murder. Y'know what every great murder has?

Jacques: Gravitas?

Qrow: Character motivation, and that's what had me stumped. If Mr. Schnee was going to murder his wife for Lien, then why not years ago? Why now? Why'd you do it, Jacques?

Watts: Is that why you're here? To speculate? To make false accusations?!

Qrow: No, Dr. Watts. I came here to make an arrest.

Jacques: (Pops open liquor bottle)

Watts: You're going to arrest us?! On what grounds?!

Watts: (Smacks bottle to the floor) STOP THAT!

Qrow: I'm not arresting both of you. Just Mr. Schnee.

Jacques: Pardon?

Watts: You can't ask for one now; you haven't been convicted yet.

Qrow: Your motive was a classic! Truly timeless! Like something out of a Mistrali play... You fell in love with another woman.

Qrow: Honestly, it doesn't take a detective to figure out how you feel about her, but it does take at least two to prove it. Like the Junior She-tectives Mrs. Schnee hired to investigate your fidelity.

Jacques: That's how Willow found out? Junior Detectives? How needlessly dramatic...

Watts: You're right. We should have figured this out sooner.

Qrow: For a while, you almost had me. Really thought you were gonna get away with it. The scarf, the alibi- Truly genius! Can't wait to see the documentaries they'll make about you!

Watts: Documentaries?

Qrow: Sure! People will wanna know how that brilliant criminal mind of his works!

Qrow: The whole kingdom will be talking about him! Maybe all of Remnant!

Qrow: Mr. Jacques Schnee, and the passion-fueled murder he'd almost covered up.

Watts: OH, PLEASE! He couldn't even cover up that he wet the bed at science camp! He tried to hide the sheets in his geode cubby! You think this MAN-SHAPED VESSEL OF ANXIETY could have done ANY OF THIS BY HIMSELF?! You think his arms are strong enough to hang a body that big?! WILLOW'S?! HIS LIMBS ARE LIKE SOGGY SPAGHETTI NOODLES!

Watts: The fake suicide? The alibi? IT WAS ALL ME! Hell, it was my FAT FOOT that finished her off! AND I GOT AWAY WITH IT, TOO!

Qrow: Got away with it? I don't understand. Didn't you just confess?

Watts: Maybe to YOUR liquor-induced mind it would seem that way!

Jacques: I'm completely sober and I STILL don't get it.

Watts: I bet you thought you could manipulate me, play to my ego, and get a confession out of me, but the fact remains that you still have no evidence and it will be your word against mine!

Watts: The plebians of the Kingdom of Atlas, all of whom idolize and worship me, will believe me over anything that spews from the mouth of an equally idiotic huntsman! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a radio show to host!

Qrow: Dr. Watts...

Qrow: ...YOUR SHOW STARTED THREE MINUTES AGO.

Watts: ...

Jacques: ...

Jacques: ...I hope you're happy, Arthur. Now everyone know about science camp.

Watts: Shut up, Jacques...

[crowscacophony]

its freak-frackin 2017 boi ^-^

I need to write something but mouthwashing has me in a state of shock still I feel like curly’s barely conscious body bruh he’s literally me. (Not a spoiler this is literally revealed in the first five minutes I promise) I need some kohls brainrot but unlike Jimmy I CAN TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR MY ACTIONS fuck Jimmy all my homies hate Jimmy mouthwashing 

I was going to do some historical fangstitch but despite my favorite fanfic I’ve ever read being about wwii and fleeing nazism I cannot bring myself to actually write anything even though I have some really cool (I have to keep telling myself that it’s okay for things to be historically accurate even though the vocabulary used *specifically for Crow and his Romani heritage* would be entirely different and it’s better to be tasteful) ideas

So instead. We’re embracing the cringe.

WELCOME TO THE YEAR 2017 BITCHES

Mid to late 2010s fandom was an insane mess. No one knew how to act. No one was anywhere near normal. I was there. I remember it all too well. The era of flower crowns and cell shaded big eyes and Hamilton animatics. Good God it was like being on crack with a bunch of closeted queers 

And I keep seeing the “mouthwashing if it was released in 2016 posts” where people are drawing the characters in flower crowns and big sweaters and “smol beans” and “cinnamon rolls :3” and it’s like a bullet to the brain. And I LOVE it. Give me more.

So. The Dalseum Duet if it was released in 2017. Let’s fuckin pretend. 

The people of 2017 fandom would be cancelled left and right today and I’m going to revel in that for a minute.

An entire cast of characters of color is not really ideal. Because we saw what happened to Hamilton. Here are my predictions for the most cancellable race offenses:

People just cannot draw Sara. They can’t fathom that her skin is dark. They keep coloring her this weird ashy mid-toned color and squishing her face to make her look “cuter.” 

Marie gets whitewashed to high hell. She’s supposed to be cutesy and feminine and the people of 2017 could not fathom that she has darker skin than Crow

Same with Adam. He would 100% get “smol bean” woobified. Someone literally just does not realize that he’s black. Art of him but white (out of pure ignorance, not malice) is posted on a prominent artist’s tumblr and never mentioned until someone digs it back up in 2020

I would say something abt Noeul but people act even worse abt “”morally gray”” East Asian men in 2024 so  just go looking yourself if you’re desperate for people saying weird shit. Dw we get to him later

Multiple people come forward saying they didn’t know Cambodia was even a country before reading Heartstrings

still an issue but people just don’t know how to draw Asian features. they all look white for some reason. 

crow always has straight hair. for some reason.

Other related offenses 

Gale is always drawn either too skinny or something is evidently proportionally incorrect 

Where. Where are Crow’s mobility aids guys

The Charlie hate posts. “she’s so annoying omg she thinks everything revolves around her! terrible main character” when she’s just a woman trying to escape an unsafe situation 

People are just not normal about crow being trans (to be expected no matter what year tbh)

“my smol trans bb 🥺 my little bean protecc him *GUYS DID YOU CATCH THAT I SAID HIM!! HIM NOT SHE I’M AN ALLY* at all costs”

your smol bb just watched someone get decapitated and didn’t flinch but. okay

people exaggerate sonnet’s proportions so ridiculously. is this transphobic or are you just numb to the furry proportions of animation memes bc their hips cannot possibly be that large 

A LOOK AT THE FANDOM

So many theatre kids who can’t communicate to anyone effectively. So many. Think Percy Jackson of eras bygone meets the Heathers animatic era. 

The most viewed video is an animatic of Sara telling off Noeul after the trial set to “Congratulations” from Hamilton. 

And now. Just know that this hurts me to say bc this album is my guilty pleasure but not a pleasure bc it hurts me to listen to some of these songs. Sigh. 

Panic! at the Disco’s album “Death of a Bachelor” released in 2016, shifting the edgy fandom space forever. 

The Council fanart. The animatics. Were edits a thing at this time? Fuckin PMVs? Idk. BUT GOOD GOD. EVERY SINGLE SONG ON THAT ALBUM. THERE WILL BE 100 COUNCIL ANIMATICS AT THE LEAST FOR EACH ONE. ALL IN THE SAME EXACT ARTSTYLE YOU KNOW THE ONE

THE FANART EDITS. GOD. NOEUL WITH HIS EYES BLACKED OUT WITH A BAR WITH LIKE “Fifty words for murder and I’m every single one of them” WRITTEN ACROSS IT HAHAHAHAAAAA his touch is black and poisonous guys. eyes like broken Christmas lights fr

PEOPLE GET SO CORNY OVER THIS MAN. SO CORNY. LIKE. HE MIGHT AS WELL BE TORD. THAT IS THE EXACT TREATMENT HE GETS

oh yeah and Jason Dean too. the comparisons of costco to JD and Veronica. dead girl walking animatics galore 

people made JD’s entire personality slushies even though he committed so many crimes. Noeul’s personality is reduced to bulgogi but no one can pronounce it so it just keeps getting worse

people woobify the fuck out of Sonnet. drawing them in big sweaters and flower crowns and sh scars on comically “thicccc” thighs bc they were “suicidal 🥺” (because they were “depwessed” not bc their marriage was fucking loveless and they no longer recognize who they are) and they have pretty pink hair. they tried to murder an innocent woman folks

unironic sams club shippers. “they should have gotten back together after the end! they did!! here is my fanart of Adam (ace mlm who has been severely traumatized by sonnet’s actions) and Sonnet (body has been borderline botched by “gender affirming surgery” and just watched their husband get slaughtered by their daughter in front of their own eyes. cannot form a cohesive sentence due to addiction to a variety of substances) 

I’m. I’m going to bed but I will add on to this. Because I find it really funny. 

Anyway. Just throwing the image of smol bean-ified Kai in your brain. @svwhssftr Big eyelashes and big blue sweater. Shark plushie. His eyes are blue and suspiciously round. Why does he have visible tits guys this isn’t… He doesn’t even have a face anymore. Bitch is built like captain curly. He is a fucking menace with an undiagnosed personality disorder. But yeah. Yeah smol trans bean (white..?) Kai. Perfect. Exactly. Sorry for that attack of psychological warfare. Thank you 2017 for your service in fandom history

[pippersmcgee]

Hi I saw your review of mouthwashing and since nobody else is saying anything negative about I sort of also wanted to share my gripes with it and discuss it if that's ok!

I played the game yesterday and honestly I was very disappointed. I was intrigued by the random fanarts I saw on here, but it's telling that those fanarts had just as much depth as the actual game. It feels like the game bit off more than it could chew and can only pretend to have a deep understanding of the themes it tries to talk about.

Like for example, the rape of Anya even if it's central to the plot line is never talked about with any gravity. And I get it's intended, I get it's supposed to represent the workplace misogyny and dismissal of rape, but it just ends up creating a game that doesn't say anything. The only slight exploration you get is how men react to rape and the realistic reaction of them being like "my friend would never do that, he's not a bad guy". But that's all it did.

Then you play as Jimmy the rapist. And that's an interesting set up genuinely, I think playing as a rapist could lead to interesting explorations of why things like this happen and how they think. And it wants to be that but seems too afraid to even talk about its own theme. Like the rape is only ever implied even when you play as the rapist, and the game asks you to empathize with Jimmy. I find it insulting! Again, I understand it's because he doesn't want to face what he did, but then it just makes the actual game feel dismissive of Anyas rape by showing Jimmy struggling without telling you directly the weight of anythings that's happening.

In general, horror really struggles with sexual assault, I think it generally fetishizes it, makes it grotesque and insulting or, like here, (unintentionally) dismisses it to feed you the line that "everybody is human, even rapists, and that's the true horror" when it fails to acknowledge that what happened is horrific.

Anyway.. as a finishing note I find the community gross but that's expected from tumblr. The religious representations of Anya or the aesthetic art about her fetus inside of her gross me out. I also find it crazy that suddenly tumblr is fine with using terms like male socialization or the patriarchy when they accuse anybody using them of being a TERF, but at the same time they only use those concepts as a sort of way to take the blame off of Jimmy instead of trying to critically think about the world around them. It's just overall disappointing, good style tho.

thanks for sending this! "overall disappointing" is a good way to put it. Like you I saw some frankly breathtaking fanart and thought this game would blow me away. I was left wondering if I had somehow gotten a faulty copy of the game? Because I was clearly not feeling any of the things these talented fanartists were feeling. which is a shame, because the graphics, sound design, overall style of the game is fantastic.

cw for discussions of rape; this is also pretty long.

i will say that while i agree with your overall sentiment i'm not sure i'm 100% with you on the particulars. oddly, the game's handling of rape was really my least concern. considering who the protagonist is (a rapist!), it makes sense that the game is dismissive of what he did to anya. he wants to dismiss it. what gravity would a "nice guy" rapist give to the situation he caused? not much, probably. to add to that, his mental state does not improve over the course of the game. at no point should we expect him to acknowledge that what he did is in any way a problem -- in addition to being a shit guy he's also out of his mind. realizing that jimmy is a piece of shit is something that we, the player, are meant to discover on our own. (in that regard the game was successful!) I'd also like to take a moment and say that i'm not someone who cares about rape being portrayed respectfully, tastefully, etc, in media because rape in reality is neither respectful nor tasteful. and experiences with rape are so different from person to person that to say one piece of media fetishizes or makes rape grotesque is to deny the creative expression of people who don't want to communicate their rape in a certain way via their art.

trying to tie this back to the topic at hand: for me the problem was not that the game felt dismissive of anya's rape, or wanted us to excuse jimmy's behavior to a disturbing degree; it was that anya didn't feel like her own person. jimmy didn't feel like his own person. each character felt like the mouthpiece of a singular author and so failed to make an impression on me. personalities did not come through in the way the game wanted them to. the game does tackle some thought-provoking material, but the way it was written felt stale and even at times boring (which should not have been the case, given the subject matter!). it didn't have the wherewithal to tie these themes together in a way that was gripping, horrifying, satisfying, and so on. it had some issues with pacing.

the fetus stuff is weird to me too. the fact that anya is inspired by shelley duvall (i think?) and doesn't end up having a strong sense of character is depressing. "the game bit off more than it could chew" is also a good way to describe it. REALLY DISAPPOINTING! i wanted to like it!

[rudegirl402]

Never a dull moment (pt 1.)

Happy Friday, my fellow degenerates! It's the weekend, time to ~~party hard~~ get blasted and not have to worry about losing your job.

This was supposed to be a 'mini' - mini for me anyway - post that I intended to put up *well* over a week ago, but with CAG coming around so frequently and spending all day here, me getting wasted almost immediately after she leaves, and something or other taking up my time, it was pushed further and further back with ever more shit heaped onto the flaming dumpster fire that is my life. Gather round, as I serve you up yet another rambling tale of misadventure and woe.

Picking up where I left off on my last post, I passed out relatively early on the Friday night, waking up with just enough time to make it down to the liquor store before closing. Some missed calls and messages from CAG on my phone. Didn't bother replying as I knew she'd already be asleep by then. I figured I'd just slam a few more drinks and hoped I passed out relatively soon. Got maybe a quarter of the way through the wine - with a little help from some mouthwash shooters - before I felt sleep finally beckon, and I shuffled off to the bedroom to hopefully get some shuteye.

Ended up waking up, though, what felt like only an hour or two later. Decided to finish off my last post and get it up before I (maybe) passed out again. But merciful oblivion never came. I hit my second wind. I think my tolerance level has reached the point where my normal, maintenance-level, drinking just isn't having the same soporific effect anymore, but paradoxically energizes me instead. My body is exhausted from a streak of sleepless nights, but Mistress Alcohol wants me to stay up and drink with her.

0700 rolls around and I'm still awake. CAG messages not long after. She's an early riser, and I normally don't see her morning messages until hours after she sends them, when I wake up. Perhaps I wasn't clear enough the day before; maybe I didn't want to come off as rude or mean, but I dropped some not-so-subtle hints I needed alone time, and I didn't want this - whatever *this* is - to be an everyday thing. I knew lack of sleep would eventually catch up with me and I was going to crash hard. Last thing I wanted was groggily waking up to her hammering at the door, or demolishing the anti-Jonesy barricade to climb through the window. I tell her straight up she can't come around that day, that I haven't gone to sleep yet, I'm fading, and I'm still drunk and don't want to trigger her with my drunkenness. Incoming call: CAG. I'm really not in the mood. She asks if she *really* can't come over, I confirm, yes, she *really* can't.

0-narcissistic temper tantrum in 60 microseconds. She moans we were supposed to be making vegan shepherd's pie together that day. I tell her we can do it the next day, that I'm really not in a fit state to entertain her. She immediately demands I gather up all the ingredients for the pie and leave them on the porch, so she can come and collect them and she'll do it herself at her halfway house. Gimme a break. She can't afford a Lyft here and back and she isn't coming *just* to get that stuff. "No, I can't do that," I not entirely fake-yawn, "I'm fading fast. Please just come around tomorrow instead." Her voice takes on a sinister tone. "Ya know, most of the pots and pans in there I bought. When I come around again I'm going to collect the things that are mine and I'm putting them into storage." Classic narcissistic carrot and stick: *do what I say or suffer the consequences*. I'm not having it though. "Ok," yawn again, "feel free to grab whatever you want *tomorrow*." She abruptly hangs up on me after demanding I call her a Lyft to get to her AA meeting.

Sleep continues to elude me and I'm left with an ongoing feeling of brain-fog. As the sun rises on a new day, I'm left with a few drinks' worth of mouthwash. I slam them in the hopes it does something, *anything*, to get me into bed and passed out. I'm just at the stage where I think I might be able to sleep, if even only for a little while when CAG chimes in again. She's back from AA and meekly apologizes for the way she spoke to me earlier, that she could have come around and wouldn't be triggered by me being drunk, but she's triggered because of what I told her the doctor said about my elevated white blood cell and liver enzyme count and still drinking. I try to reassure her that having elevated liver enzymes/white blood cells is standard for CAs but she's not having it, says she's upset her dad and I are drinking ourselves to death. I don't take the bait and tell her I'm feeling much better than I did when I went for that doctor's appointment. I can't help thinking how it's less about me (and her dad), and more about how it affects *her*. Never mind, not getting sucked into the same old games.

Still no word from Gun Girl. Last message sent from me Thursday evening/Friday morn, unread.

CAG messages again, when I thought she'd be doing...whatever...for a few hours and leaving me alone to get merry. Says she left a bag in the Lyft to her AA meeting and she desperately needs it back. Groan. Even sober she's so fucking scatterbrained. She can't call the driver or use the Lyft app because her broken phone is still only a Wi-Fi platform, so it's up to me to do the leg work for her, so to speak. I manage to contact the driver, who seemingly doesn't speak a word of English, and ask if he can drop off the bag CAG left in his car. He says he has it - via Google translate - and asks for an address. I tell CAG there's a $15 lost item fee and she points out she can't afford it. For a moment I consider paying it for her - the 'right' thing to do, no? - but I hold off while I ask her what's in the bag. Turns out it's just a couple of make up items, cheap and disposable. Awesome, just tossed away 2 hours communicating with Lyft and a driver who doesn't speak English, only to find it's not even worth $15 to get it returned. Well played, CAG. Another brilliant fucking waste of my time.

I contemplate heading to the store for more booze then. It's a Saturday, so busses are hourly. I can't be assed going to the local Walmart for 2 or 3 items and literally doing laps around the store, buying nothing else, until the return bus comes, so settle on trudging to the local gas station/liquor store for their more expensive - albeit conveniently available - wines. Not going just yet though, as it's still over 100°F and even just sitting on the shaded porch, wearing only shorts, for a cigarette, I'm dripping with sweat.

Gimpy leg has returned with furious vengeance. The last couple of weeks before CAG happened on back, I was feeling fine, good even. The pain, the limp, it had completely dissipated; I could walk normally again. But now I was back to shrieking electrical pain and shuffling with a pronounced limp. Under perfect conditions it should only take me literally 12 minutes to walk there and back, but with gimpy leg it's 20-25 minutes, and I don't fancy that trek under the burning Arizona sun, so nurse my mouthwash until it gets cooler. I wind up picking up two bottles of wine. I'm getting through one and a half to two bottles a night now. Seems like not long ago just one bottle would last me a night.

I woke up a little later than I intended on the Sunday, probably making up for the lack of sleep from the day before. As usual, bevy of messages from CAG. Still nothing from GG. Raging hangover. Good sign, I guess, in that I don't feel still drunk. CAG wants to come around again. I had assumed the ballache of getting two buses here on a weekend schedule would dissuade her from coming, but the inconvenience didn't seem to bother her. A new sensation flared up then: annoyance. I wanted to chill, I wanted to get drunk, I wanted to sponge out in front of the laptop, I wanted to get this posted, but instead I have to sit and watch tv with her for x hours of the day while WDs crept in and she rabbited on about people I didn't know and didn't care to know about. I considered telling her not to bother, that today wasn't a good day for me either, but I knew she'd have another meltdown. I wasn't in the mood for, nor was it any longer my responsibility to deal with, one of her temper tantrums so all I could do was grit my teeth and text "cool, see you in a bit."

She didn't stay very long. There seemed to be a mood in the air; she was acting different. Quiet, pensive, contemplative maybe. She suggested we watch the *Obi-Wan Kenobi* show, I suspect more to try and please me - or at least wanting to have the appearance of that - than any real desire on her part. I'd already seen it like thrice over, but I'm a Star Wars nut, so I didn't mind. Of the prequel trilogy she's only seen *The Phantom Menace* and while OWK does a fairly good job of summarizing *Attack of The Clones* and *Revenge of The Sith*, I have to pause quite frequently in the early episodes to explain some things she doesn't get. "Ugh, what's this 'Episode II', 'Episode III' stuff!? *Star Wars* was episode I, *The Empire Strikes Back* was episode II, *Return of The Jedi* was episode III, and then these stupid prequels came out and they changed the numbers for no reason! They're prequels, they shouldn't be I, II, III!" This isn't the first time we've had this discussion and I can only laugh, "CAG, the original trilogy - which you saw in the cinema when they originally came out - was already subtitled IV, V, VI *before I was even born*". Sober or drunk, she picks some weird fucking hills to die on.

We go out for a cigarette during a lull between episodes and I decide to set her straight. I tell her, as sensitively as I can, I need more time off from her, that I need to step up my job-search game because I can't afford rent & bills for the coming month. Because of CA time displacement I felt like it was still the first week of July, but it's not; I'd drunkenly pissed away almost two weeks fretting over her and GG. She doesn't get angry or upset, as I imagined she would, but nods in agreement, saying she'll just come around on Tuesday or Wednesday instead. She leaves after what feels like 2 or 3 hours, when she normally stays for 6 or 8. At least I can drink earlier.

She texts later in the night to say she got home safe, and she had fun at mine. Despite myself, I can't help but ask if she's ok, because she normally doesn't leave that early. She replied she was just tired and everything's fine, but "it's good to know you're not sick of me." Hmmm.

Monday. I really had intended to light a fire under my ass in terms of getting a job. There was only two weeks left until the next month and I thought maybe, maybe, *maybe* if the universe aligned just right and I got a decent-paying job sharpish, my first paycheck would hit before rent was due. But I put off contacting the agency who got me lined up with my last job. I've been lowkey worried that with the easing of Covid lockdowns - when they got me the job last year all communication was through webcam or phone - they would ask me to actually go into their office for a face to face chat or interview. Never mind the ballache of having to get multiple busses to their office, or the anxiety of interacting with people when I've got WDs, when I worked with them last time I had to do all these performance tests with various Microsoft Office programs, to ensure I was the "right fit for the job." Data entry proficiency I had absolutely no trouble with, as I've got a type speed and accuracy above that required for secretarial jobs, but I'm sure plenty here can relate with the fact that in all my office jobs over the years I've never had to use more than the most basic functions of Word or Excel. When I did their little tests at home last year, I just opened a new window and Googled "how to do x, y, z on Word/Excel" and passed with flying colors. I mean, if it's vital to whatever job I could get I'm sure they'd give me training on it anyway, so I didn't see the point of their daft tests, but I was worried if the agency wanted me to come in and do those tests again in-person, which I'd naturally fail.

I was stuck in something of a can't/must quandary then. I knew I needed to call the agency, with the slim hope they retained my personal details and I wouldn't have to do their stupid tests again, but I fucking hate phone calls and knew it would give me anxiety, which meant I'd have to drink just to talk on the phone. So I did what I always do and dithered instead. CAG popped up then, last fuckin' thing I need. "Hey, I think I might go to the Walmart near you. We could meet up if you want?" No, no I don't want. I thought I made it perfectly clear I need Monday 'off' from her. I gently deflect her by saying I don't plan on leaving the house because of the heat and because I need to contact the agency. "I could come around after I'm done at Walmart? I won't stay long." No! She knows from our time together I hate making phone calls and asks if I need a drink to steady my nerves. I'm wary of discussing boozing with her because I don't want to trigger her and go right back to dealing with an alcoholic psychopath, so I answer honestly: "I don't know." I'd been trying to put off drinking until later into the day, and with her coming around that meant I wasn't drinking until 6, 7, 8 at night for the most part, but here I was, early afternoon, eyeing the bottle and knowing I needed it just to make a fucking phone call. Fuck it. I caved a few hours before the agency closed. *Just a few for Dutch courage* became *this is fun* and I watched the clock steadily wind down to closing time as I slammed more drinks.

Sunset. CAG says she's going to bed early because she's tired. Cool. I'm out of sauce and throw my kicks on for a booze run. I see my big toe poking out of a hole in my shoe, I can't help but laugh. Despite CAG having done the laundry for me, I'm still not wearing socks. I guess maybe because I don't know when I'll be able to do, or afford, laundry again and I don't want to 'waste' them on something as trivial as trips to the liquor store. I make it halfway there before I absentmindedly pat my ass and realize I've left my wallet at home. FFS. I try not to sit on it when I can help it, on the off-chance it has something to do with my gimpy leg, so take it out whenever I can, but there have been a few occasions where I've been tipsy or blasted and not realized I've left the house without it.

When I finally shuffle to the liquor store I go to pick up my usual: two bottles of cab sav. Except they're out. Fuck. Their wine section (such as it is), is right next to the register, so I have to awkwardly tell a number of people doing their shopping, "you go ahead," and motion them past because they think I'm in line, while I'm examining the red wines they do have for alcohol content. It's all weak ass 8-9% shit, fuck if that's going to tide me over for the night. I settle for a couple of pinot grigios. 11%. Weaker than my 12.5% cab sav and I fucking hate the taste of white wine, but it will have to do.

Except it doesn't. Card declined. Shit. The bills must have hit already and I'm out of money. Shit, shit, shit, fuck. My drunk/lazy ass been hitting up the local liquor store far too often when Walmart is cheaper, but I haven't been functional (or mindful) enough to get the bus there and back. There's a line growing behind me and I suddenly feel *very* self-conscious as I try my card again. I've been wearing the same clothes for what feels like six weeks now, and I don't think I've showered in that time either. I must look - and smell - like a disheveled hobo, and here I am with two bottles of wine on a Monday night nervously, and desperately, swiping my card multiple times. *Eh eh eh eh*, the card reader squawks every time. The teller mumbles something about maybe it's just my card and I almost blurt out *but it worked last night*; the store only has 3 employees and the dude serving me then served me the night before. Instead I croak a nervous laugh, "uhh, think I need to go and get my other card haha," and bolt it out of the store with my tail between my legs, trying not to make eye-contact with anyone in the line behind me.

I am fuming on the ~~walk~~ shuffle back home. I'm completely and utterly broke. I still have mouthwash at home that I can drink, but I was nominally supposed to be tapering down with wine mixers, the whole "getting your life back on track" thing. I consider catching a late bus to the local Walmart to pick up some almond extract, or what have you, with my food stamps, but decide against it because I'm too fucking lazy. Fuck knows how much I even have left since I've been paying for CAG's food and drink. Weird, since she gets free food at her halfway house, vegetarian/vegan as well. Minty, antiseptic, breath and screaming shits are a small price to pay for getting wasted that night.

I get home and angrily crack open a new bottle of that sweet Equate mouthwash. I take my phone out of my pocket and place it, face-up, within my field of view, just in case GG messages and I don't want to miss that. It's been like 4 days since I've heard from her. I don't know what I've said to upset her; I thought we ended things on a good note when we last spoke, and we were headed towards full reconciliation. But how can you tell someone it makes you cry to admit you love them and if they're in danger of homelessness you have a spare room they can live in... and then just ghost them? Whatever. I don't care. I constantly feel like I'm begging for scraps of attention and affection anyway. As with 95% of my relationships I'm far more invested in them than they ar-

Tuesday. I wake up with a start. No recollection of going to bed. There's a bottle of mouthwash on the pillow next to me. My head is fucking pounding. It's that awful wire wool brain sensation of a hangover. I stagger out of the bedroom, fill up a cup of ice water and make to go out on to the porch for a breakfast cigarette. All the lights still on in the house paint a picture of me staggering straight from my computer chair to bed to pass out. My laptop is open and unlocked. I usually shut it down or at least put it on sleep mode. Messenger is open. Conversation: GG. *Fuuuuuckkkk*. My eyes focus on the last thing I sent. "Why are you doing this?" - 0328AM. I have absolutely no recollection of sending that, and I'm angry at myself for doing so. *We were trying to be brave and stoic, and you fucking cave like this?* Message unread, as are the previous ones I sent her, the last time we spoke. She'd normally be up now so she should have read my drunken mishap. Instead, silence. Again.

CAG messages, says she's on the way to mine and will be there in a couple of hours. I groan in frustration; her visits are coming earlier and earlier. I'm feeling far too ropey to deal with her. Maybe if I'd had more time to sober up and feel better I might have had more patience for her, but I knew I couldn't ask her to delay coming over or postpone it for the next day because she'd have another narcissistic meltdown. The way I felt then, I contemplated going for some hair of the dog. I'd considered it before, when she came to visit, but I put it off both because I was legit trying to push drinking as far back into the day as I could, and because she would instantly know I'd had some booze. But temptation gets the better of me and an hour or so before she comes I fold and start chugging the mouthwash. Even if she can smell it on my breath she can't say with complete certainty I wasn't using it for its intended purpose.

She arrives just as I shut off the oven, from cooking the vegan shepherd's pie. She'd insisted I cook it when she's not there because using the oven raises the ambient temperature of the apartment, and with only a couple of box fans for climate control we're usually sheened in sweat from just quietly watching tv. I can't help but think of how much a kick she gets out of the control factor though. I try to put GG, and drunk-messaging her the night before, from my mind and have a pretend-fun day with CAG. The pie turned out pretty good. It's only vegan because she is and I prefer the real deal, but I give myself a pat on the back for the quality of the finished product. It's the first meal I've made for CAG since she's been back that she's completely scoffed. Normally she always leaves bits and pieces which is a strange concept for me, having been raised in a "clean your plate" household.

I wind up staying up late, like stupid late, into the AM glugging the mouthwash. I can't sleep, for some reason, probably because of the tolerance again. I'm having my seventh or eighth "I'll go to bed after this" cigarette when something weird happens. A pair of lights flash on the wall across the street, from what looks like someone in the adjacent AirBnB unlocking their car. It's like 4 in the morning, what are you doing up at this time? I rarely see the guests who stay in the AirBnB and my interaction with them is limited to the odd smile, wave, or "hi". But the current occupants seem a little sketch. On more than a few occasions probably a dozen or so different vehicles came and went from the unit all day. "It's probably drugs," CAG had scoffed. I initially dismissed it as more of her conspiracy thinking, but that morning I considered she might have had a point. I'm not really paying attention to whatever the AirBnB guest is doing until, out of the side of my eye, I see two girls titter out onto the driveway. They're barefoot and the driveway is graveled. One of them - and I can't tell because of her dark skin tone and the sun not having quite risen - seems to be wearing only a bra. Just. A. Bra. The other appears to be in some fancy-looking lingerie with rather fuck-me fishnet stockings. They must be bloody prostitutes as I can't imagine anyone else sauntering around their home so scantily clad, especially since I thought the AirBnB guests were a dad and his to 'daughters'. They open the doors on a car in the driveway and appear to be taking things into the house from it. I know it's early hours but the property isn't walled and they're right on the street; anyone driving past is getting an eye-full of T & A. I exaggeratedly clear my throat, both because I'm choking on phlegm and I figure they could do with a warning the whole world isn't asleep. They both glance up from whatever they're doing in the car before getting back to it, seemingly without any concern of how exposed they are.

Wednesday, CAG returns to form when she says she wants to clean the bathroom. The whole rationale for her being here was supposed to be that she wanted to clean the apartment, to help me, before the annual inspection happened. After a week of doing so she seemed to lose interest in the idea though and I figured she got bored with her cover. She does a good of job of scrubbing the place out while I rustle us up some vegan chicken burgers. Should have taken a picture for scale, but these things are ridiculously oversized, like bigger than our hands. If there's one good thing about her coming around, it's that I'm eating somewhat regularly again, I guess. When I walk her to the bus stop later, so we can go food shopping and then she can go home, she expresses the sudden concern she's going to shit herself. I can't help but laugh and tell her while it might be an occupational hazard for CAs I'm surprised she's still got a leaky bum after having been sober for so long. "I never had a problem with diarrhea because of drinking," she tuts, as if I said something ridiculous. "That was because of food poisoning or I took too many laxatives." For fucks sake. I've written before about how terrible she is at acknowledging the realities of being a CA and here we had a shining example. I'm not in the mood to 'debate' her though and just nod an "mmmhmm".

When we get to the store she immediately rushes for the bathroom while I go around picking out things she asked me to buy, to take home or enjoy when she comes around mine. I head to the booze aisle and contemplate picking up a bottle of $2.50 wine with the spare change I have in my pocket. CAG finds me there, looking hagard from her power shit. To my surprise, she offers to give me the last of her remaining cash to buy more than one, and some more mouthwash. I half expect her to ask if we can go back to mine and drink together, but she looks away instead and says, "one isn't going to do you, and I don't want you going through withdrawals if you won't go to the hospital." Huh. I almost miss my bus home because she has the runs twice again while we're there, but we both make it to our own busses and back home in good time.

As I get deeper into the wine, GG's silence starts to gnaw at me. I can't think of any reason why she'd be deliberately ignoring me like this. We've gone a day or two without talking, maybe, but we've been pretty regular in our level of communication. I look at the message I sent her a couple of days earlier, when I drunk-messaged her, still unread. I try not to get angry but I can't help but feel like she's playing games. She's 9 years older than me, I would have expected her to be more mature. If she doesn't want to talk anymore she could have said so; if she's with someone else she could have said so. Would it really have cost her anything to say, "let's just be frien-"

Thursday. I awake, again, with no recollection of having put myself to bed. Looks like I demolished a bottle and a half of wine and more than a few glugs of mouthwash. I gingerly check Messenger to see if I messaged GG again, like the last time I blacked out. Thankfully, that's a no. Then a thought occurs to me. I remember her telling me, for some reason, there were times when I would message her and she could see what I said via notifications, without the message having a 'read' tag to it on my end. I check my text messages. I sent her one last night. Balls. "Are you ok? What's going on?" It's not bad in the grand scheme of drunk-texts but fuck I gotta stop doing that shit. No response from her. Surprise surprise.

I have a couple of quick wine mixers, to get rid of the hangover, before CAG comes around and we have a fairly uneventful day. I tell her about watching a video on Bhutanese cuisine the night before, neither of us really know much about the country but I randomly drop that from what I remember smoking is largely banned there. "Well we can cross that off the list of places we're going to visit." I don't say anything. *We*. At various times since she's been back she's made noises about wanting to leave the country and heavily implied I'd be going with her. She has her eyes set on Panama, and has been saying things like "you should look into it," but never has a retort when I tell her I don't really have the desire - or funds - to leave the country *alone*.

Saturday. Once more bolt up in bed from a blackout. I barely remember Friday. CAG was here, I felt annoyed at her being a drag on my time, we spent all day watching tv, I cracked open the mouthwash and then...nothing. CAG messages to announce her imminent arrival. Then my phone buzzes again. I expect it to be some demand I do something for her, maybe meet her at Walmart. But my heart jumps as I see *1 new message: GG*. I hesitantly open it up and see I'd drunkenly angry-messaged her the night before. Oh. Fuck. The last couple of times I had some vague sense of familiarity on reading the words I wrote the night before, but this time I'm struck dumb. I have absolutely zero memory of messaging her. Worse - a million times worse - while I'd tried to maintain a civil, neutral, tone in my prior messages I went fucking ballistic with this one. I asked her why she was being so cruel and sadistic, I asked her why she couldn't just say she didn't want to talk to me anymore or just be friends; I asked her why, if she was with someone else, she couldn't have just said so.

She says she's been silent because she didn't have phone or Internet service, that she's so broke she got cut off. A million thoughts run through my mind. I don't even have time to process a response as she immediately goes on the attack, telling me she's not with anyone else, and that I 'obviously' must love and care for her if I'm coming at her so. That "things" have happened to her since we last spoke that she doesn't want to get into, but I'm making it all about me because I wasn't concerned something might be going on with her. She calls me a "controlling, manipulative, self-righteous, narcissist." I might be a deadbeat CA, but I try to own my flaws, and this isn't the first time she's thrown this scripted shit at me, which really sounds like it's aimed at her ex-husband or some other guy she dated before or after. We get into a heated back and forth then. I'm taken aback by the ferocity of her attacks on me when I'd only expressed hurt and sorrow in my last message. I'm not a fucking mind-reader, so for her to get bent out of shape over me not intuiting her phone/Internet service (allegedly) being out or sussing out the other 'stuff' that happened to her makes me want to fight back. What was I supposed to fucking do, take a $100 Lyft I can't afford out to her place on the off-chance a plane had crashed into her house or something? I'd (semi-)joked about her explosive anger before and I'm getting a prime example of it now. She could have just said "hey, sorry, my Internet/phone got cut off! I'm not and haven't been with anyone else, dumbass," and things would have gone back to being good and normal. But instead she starts throwing out all these off-the-mark insults and accusations about how I made this all about me, and I don't care what's going on in her life. I'm instantly put in mind of the spat we had after the funeral she went to, how she dialed up the notch on righteous indignation and vindictiveness when I was constantly offering to bury the hatchet with her.

I am seething. Fuck, the timing is cosmically infuriating. I can't get sucked into an all-day battle with GG as CAG is due imminently and she'll flip if I'm spending time constantly on the phone. Grrr. I step out on to the porch for a breakfast cigarette. There's a large tree limb in the yard. I vaguely recall a storm from the night before. I don't know if it was a lightning strike or gale-force winds, but one of the larger branches from the tree in the front yard has been ripped off and is lying there on the ground. CAG comes through the gate and steps around it as I finish rolling my cigarette. She offers a tired "hey" as I light up. I'm already not in the mood and would rather be talking to GG. Restless leg all day as I drop some not-so-subtle hints CAG should go home sooner rather than later. I swallow my pride and message GG she could have told me her services were about to be cut off - if that's even really the issue - and maybe I could have helped her. Left on (un)read for the day.

Sunday I wake up to the sound of knocking at my door. I don't need to check the porch camera to know who it is. I can only groan "you gotta be fucking kidding me!?" before I roll out of bed and shuffle to the door. CAG's sat at the porch table, smoking a cigarette. "You weren't responding to my messages so I thought I'd just come over before it got too hot." She's a terrible communicator, in more ways than one, but I especially hate, then, how she never waits for confirmation through textual conversations. I'm the kind of mate who'll give you constant real-time updates if we're meeting up; "just getting in the shower now," "setting off in a bit," "10 minutes away," etc. because I'd expect someone to do the same for me. CAG will text "can we meet up at 12?" and if she doesn't hear anything back she'll just be there anyway.

I know most of my crankiness is centered around GG from the day before, and I try not to misdirect myself into taking it out on CAG, but I can't help feeling irritated she's woken me up. Going to bed later and later and poor-quality CA sleep is really kicking the shit out of me. Another wasted day of sponging out in front of the tv with her, watching stuff I've either seen before or I'm not interested in. I'm constantly checking my phone for word from GG but nothing. I tell CAG, with a little more of a growl than I'd intended, she is not to just show up again like that uninvited, that she should get confirmation from me in future so our plans line up. I get a message from her after she gets back to her halfway house later, saying she feels hurt that I open myself up to "Internet strangers" (as in, you lot) but I was a "closed book" with her. Never mind the fact she has no one but herself to blame for ignoring, talking over, and disregarding me during the years we were together, one of the hallmarks of pathological narcissism is to isolate the victim; I know she's jealous of the fact I have friends from/on here and she knows I won't use my laptop while she's here nor do I really use my phone either. I've lowkey suspected one of her motives for coming here all the time - when I seemingly have nothing to offer, even attention - is to prevent me from writing. Lol I remember back in 2020 when I could have Reddit up on my laptop and be writing about us while she was in the same room, oblivious and uninterested. Perhaps I should never have mentioned what I write about and how frequently. Hindsight is 20/20 etc. etc.

[idolapollo]

Dedicated DEV LOG #2

i'm a month late ( ´･ω･)

at least finals are over for now!!!

please don't be disappointed i tried my best to manage stress, seasonal depression, and self-doubt while writing over the past two months ( T∀T)

once again, this month's blog post is decicated to "Dedicated To…"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

man, fall quarter always sucks, and i hate when it gets so dark out so quick!!! how are you supposed to expect apollo to function without much sun!!!!!! ヽ(　`Д´)ﾉ

well, i hope everyone's been okay! i've been trying to be as mentally stable as possible… and it's kind of working! even with seasonal depression, therapy has been helping teach me how to calm myself and live to tomorrow! i did get some anxiety medication a short bit after my last dev log too, and it's been going great for me!! ( ´∀｀ )b

lately, i've been looking at other games and media and wondering what makes psychological horror so good, and what even is it? turns out no one has a set answer and it's hard to describe (´･ω･｀)

looking at the reception of mouthwashing (which i really enjoyed!!), i'm starting to get my own doubts on how scary my game really is and if i'm doing things right enough…

i started to rewrite and add stuff to the first route when i thought i was finished and going to move onto the second route….. i even made the first route much longer as a result, and now the other routes need to match up... ( T∀T)

i ended up putting in more abstract representations and symbolism of mental struggles and fears, similar to how pocket mirror does things! i also especially added more bits where you can actually play the game, as how i currently had it, the game was more of a visual novel with rpg elements and made in rpg maker instead of ren'py lmao

compared to the original script i had, i felt the game's script was set too much in realism and didn't come off as scary, especially thinking about how rpgs themselves aren't really scary since you're not playing in a 1st-person view, therefore you're not that scared because the scary stuff is happening to a 3rd party and takes you out of the immersion

it's a lot more work than i thought trying to make things scary.... you really have to look into human instinct and nature, not to sound too pragmatic ( ´_ゝ`)

before i rant a bit more, here's a preview of reyn's full art, the one tybalt is hopelessly in love with!! feel free to stop reading at this point if you think i'm annoying as shit don't worry i feel the same

i hope i made him look cute AND cool enough! i made him to my tastes after all lol

speaking of which, i hope my feelings—ugly, pitiful, relatable however they may be—get across in this game, i have a lot of anxieties around love, be it familial, platonic, or romantic, and i've always felt lonely, ignored, and out of place a lot of the time

suffice to say, i am projecting on tybalt a lot lol

honestly, i wonder if anyone even reads these, or if anyone cares at all, but i hope someone out there does

as i said in a depressing tweet, my works and stories and i may be worthless, but i like them and they get me wanting to live another day!

i hope by the next update either in the next month or two, i'll have at least two routes finished!

i'm sorry i can't show more than this, but i swear i'm putting my all into this!! especially since i want to work on a comic soon too!

i'll leave everyone with a scrapped doodle i had that i was initially going to include with an update i was gonna post before halloween, but you already know what happened (´･ω･｀)

thank you once again for following me and my stupid, worthless works! (^_^)v (and if you're interested in who exactly these characters i keep posting are, if anyone's interested i have a whole story!! but basically they're all me in a sense!)

[emberdune]

5, 20, 23 for vidya games 😈

Hellooo

5: A popular series/game you just can’t get into no matter how much you try?

Dead Space... I tried to play it way back in 2011 and just couldn't get the hang of it. I tried it again last year and yeah, still the same. I don't know. I'm just so bad... how are you supposed to play when you run out of bullets in the first 4 minutes 😭

Also people complain about how in-your-face Dead Space is about its tutorializing but I was literally too stupid to figure out how to beat the monsters so I just gave up...

20: What was the first video game you ever played?

Digger! I still have the music stuck in my head sometimes. Its version of Chopin's Funeral March that plays when you die may have very well shaped me for years to come. At least I think it was this game. It's the earliest one I can remember anyway. I must have been very small.

For a more exciting title, the first game I ever bought was Dawn of War: Dark Crusade. It's a Warhammer 40k RTS and it was loads of fun playing with my friends. (Mainly because the Necrons were so unbalanced I actually managed to win most of the time.) You could zoom in and see the battle happening in almost 3rd person and that was the coolest thing ever. I literally don't know anything about 40k besides what happens in this title, though.

23: Biggest disappointment you’ve had in gaming?

I would say Silent Hill 2 Remake, but can it really be considered disappointment if you never even expected much of it in the first place? What I will say is this: To me, Silent Hill 2 Remake. Is a fan game. It plays like a fan game. It reads like a fan game. Not canon. Or worthy of any consideration as a legitimate entry to the series. Bloober Team, just.. just leave SH3 alone, please. Please.

Otherwise you know I'm gonna have to say the fan reaction to Mouthwashing. I have been witness to truly the shrimp colors of misogyny and ableism in the wake of the game's release and rise to fame. A lot of what I want to say about the so-called fandom has already been said so all I'll say is that there's more to life than shipping.

[mania-sama]

final update for post-op day 2: the biggest takeaway from today is that this is going to be a lot slower of a journey than i hoped it would be. but that's okay. we win some, we lose some. a couple of new things did happen today, though:

started on the 3x daily mouthwash. i was terrified that it would taste really bad, but in reality it's really cold and refreshing with a nice mint flavor. it hurt a little bit the third time i did it, but other than that it's been a pleasant experience.

brushing my teeth did not go particularly well. i still can't open my jaw that wide so i couldn't like. properly brush my teeth. i'm also scared of getting too close to the surgical site, so i kind of just gently scrubbed my front teeth lmao. also i'm not supposed to swish, gurgle, or spit out anything which is all a pretty major part to brushing my teeth?? so it was awkward getting the excess toothpaste out of my mouth.

i drove! i was a little unsure at first, but worry not, my driving skills were not impeded. what actually sucked was having to talk to the park-in machine or whatever those things are called at sonic (i needed a milkshake), and the worker could NOT hear what i was saying, which is on me.

as far as eating goes, i did NOT try to eat any scrambled eggs. i will try tomorrow. in the meanwhile, today i had:

THREE cups of yoplait kids' yogurt

ONE small chocolate sonic milkshake

A LOT of vanilla pudding

TWO bottles of water

ONE bowl of chocolate ice cream

MY FOOD RECOMENDATION: i have to say, the milkshake is still taking the crown again. with the proper plastic spoon, it's pretty easy to get the milkshake into my mouth without having to open my jaw very wide. shout out sonic, you've been a true one these past two days.

what i am really happy about is being able to drink water. since the chemical taste in my mouth is gone, i can actually drink water without any taste issues. also, it's a bit easier to drink because i have a little more control over my jaw muscles! hopefully tomorrow i can drink a bit more and actually eat something healthy for once. for food cravings, i REALLY want these cheese sticks that are in my refridgerator. i want them so bad. but i. can't. eat. them.

ratings:

pain: 6.5/10. about the same as yesterday, only i didn't cry because i didn't have that hour of absolute misery like i did yesterday. i've also fucked up the timing of my pain medication, so i predict i'm going to wake up at about 3 am tonight in excruciating pain! fun!!!

stitches: 6/10. i think i keep biting down on the one on my left side?? i'm not exactly sure, but it freaks me out. for that, it gets knocked down 4 whole points. i don't really know what to do about them and it scares me.

icepack: 5/10: when i actually wear it, it's fine, but it's now when the ice melts it gets the whole system wet and uncomfortable. i kept it off more than i kept it on, which i'm sure has not helped the pain nor swelling at all but. you know. i'm not perfect okay. i'm TIRED of wearing that thing (even if it makes the pain a little more bearable).

swelling: 7/10: my face has not looked normal a single time this entire day! and it's only going to get worse! it's actually really messed with some of my face mobility, so for whatever control i'm gaining over my muscles, it's being taken away by the swelling.

talking: 3/10. it still sucks booty. the swelling especially prevents me from putting any real volume or fluctuation in my voice. again, i can do it, i just don't like to if i can help it.

overall: 5/10. feeling much the same as i did yesterday. in some ways i felt more productive, in some ways i didn't. i've done a bit of fanfic writing, which has been nice, as well as some paperwork that i've been putting off. i've reverted back to my roots of short one-shots (although yesterday was admittedly worse. i read like ten different wisdom teeth one-shots LMAO). lots of tiktok. lots of staring at my screen contemplating life. even more attempting to eat and drink with more success! can't wait until i can get that sweet sweet cheese stick in my MOUTH.

things are already starting to look up! pain is about the same, but i think i have marginally more movement in my jaw. i've already drank a water bottle's worth of water this morning, which is a considerable amount more compared to yesterday. hopefully things will continue to improve!! the recommendation sheet says i should start brushing my teeth today, so if i do improve hopefully i can get in one session before the day is over

[we-all-smut-down-here]

I loved and I loved and I lost you

My head was pounding as I opened my eyes. I put a hand to my head as I sat up in the bed. “Oh good you’re awake I was afraid that I used a little too much toxin.” A voice said. I quickly looked over to where the voice came from and I saw Illumi. “Why did you do this?” I asked. “I just want you to prove that you are safe and alive to our families then after that I promise I will take you back.” Illumi said. “Sure. Sure you will. I know you don’t plan on taking me back.” I said. “No I promise that I will take you back.” Illumi said. I opened my mouth to say something but I suddenly felt sick. I jumped up from Illumi’s bed and ran to the bathroom.

I rushed to the toilet kneeling on the ground and started to throw up. I went to hold my hair but Illumi grabbed ahold of my hair went one hand and rubbed his other up and down my back. “You’ve never reacted like this to any toxin before.” Illumi said. “I don’t think it’s the toxin. I need to get back.” I said as I reached up and flushed the toilet. “No just stay here. I’ll get a doctor to come and check you out first.” Illumi said. “No I’m fine. Besides I think I know what’s wrong.” I said as I got up from the ground going over the sink grabbing the mouthwash.

Once I walked out of the bathroom Kikyo and my mother rushed in. My mom rushed over to me putting her hands on my face. “Oh thank god you’re okay. Do you know how worried you have made all us for the past three years?” My mom said. “I told you that Illumi would find her and bring her back home. You did great son.” Kikyo said. “Well I’m sorry that I’ve worried everyone but I have to get back I have a life now.” I said as tried to walk past them but my mom grabbed my arm yanking me back. “Where you do you think you’re going young lady. You are not going back to wherever in the hell that you’ve been.” My mom said. “I just can’t do that mom.” I said. “Why the hell not?” My mom asked. I was afraid to answer. I knew if I told them that they would go and kill Chrollo. “Well?” My mom asked. “I’m married and I think I’m pregnant.” I said. “What in the hell were you thinking!” Kikyo yelled. “Who is it?” My mom yelled. “If I tell you his name you’ll kill him.” I said. “That’s more than he deserve for you ruining everything.” My mom said. “How did I ruin everything?” I asked. “Because of you you’re older sister couldn’t marry Illumi like we had planned for years and we couldn’t marry you off to the other family we had planned to.” My mom said. “I couldn’t help who I love.” I said. “Do you honestly thing like love exist in our families.” My mom said. “It may not exist to you or anyone else in our families but I love my husband and he loves me.” I said. “Tell me his name right now!” My mom yelled. “No.” I said. “Illumi do you know?” Kikyo asked. “Yes. He hired me to do a job a few months back.” Illumi said. “Illumi please don’t.” I said. “And he knew where she was for months?” My mom asked. “Actually she’s been with him ever since she left.” Illumi said. “Illumi.” I said. “What’s his name?” Kikyo asked. “Chrollo Lucilfer the leader of the phantom troupe.” Illumi said. “The phantom troupe. No you are not allow to return to that man do you understand me.” My mom said. “What no. I’m not a little kid anymore you can’t tell me what to do.” I said. “You can and you will young lady. If you don’t I’ll make sure that not only him but everyone in that little troupe will die by morning do I make myself clear.” My mom said. I nodded my head as tears filled my eyes. “Yes ma’ma I won’t go back to him.” I said. “Come on now Kikyo we have a wedding to plan.” My mom said. Kikyo nodded and they walked out of Illumis’s room.

“Why did you have to do this? I told you to leave me alone.” I said. “I am sorry if I knew that this is what would have happened I won’t have brought you back.” Illumi said. I laughed a little. “Sure. Sure you did. Why did you tell them you saw me? I was happy.” I said. Illumi put a hand on my cheek but I slapped his hand away. “Why did they mean by a wedding?” I asked even though I already the answer. “Our parents made an agreement if I found you and brought you back that we could get married.” Illumi said. “Of course. I need some air I’m sorry.” I said walking away. I walked out of the mansion and outside.

I started to walk around the grounds. It was long before I could hear someone following me. I knew who was following me. A small smile came to my face. “Come on out mike.” I said. Mike came out from the trees and made his way over to me. He started to nudge me with his head. “Easy boy. I know I missed you too.” I said as I started to pet him. Mike put his nose to my stomach and started to stiff my stomach. “Don’t be rough I might be pregnant boy.” I said. “He could probably sense it. Animals can sense that kind of thing.” Illumi said as he walked over to me. “I wanted to be alone.” I said. “I understand but if I don’t come and find you something else could happened.” Illumi said. “What if I am pregnant?” I asked. “I’ll say it’s mine.” Illumi said. “Right do you honestly think my mom or yours would believe that? The baby would come earlier than they would expect.” I said. “The child would look similar to me so they wouldn’t question it much.” Illumi said. “Why would you do this for me?” I asked. “Because I took you from the man that you really loved. You love him more than you ever loved me.” Illumi said. “Illumi.” I said. “No it’s okay. I didn’t fight for you when it mattered and I just thought it would have been best to just forget about us. But when you actually did it I guess you could say I couldn’t do the same. Did you know I became a hunter?” Illumi said. “No I didn’t. When did that happen?” I asked. “A little over six months ago. I did it to make the job that Chrollo hired me for to make it easier and because Killua was doing it as well after he ran away.” Illumi said. “Wait he did what? He didn’t mention that when I saw him. What happened?” I said. “He stabbed mother and Milluki.” Illumi said. “Oh wow.” I said. “I also became a hunter to find you. So I guess it kind of worked.” Illumi said. Mike nudged my face with his nose. I started to laugh a little. “Okay boy I distracted you long enough. Go on. I’ll be around.” I said. Mike nudged me one more time then left. “You know I think that he missed you the most.” Illumi said. “I missed him a lot too. Come on we should get back inside.” I said holding out my hand. Illumi just look down at my hand in confusion. “We are supposed to act like we like each other again right?” I asked. “You are right. You should take off your rings.” Illumi said. I nodded and took of my rings putting them in my pocket then grabbed Illumi’s hand then we made our way back to the mansion.

We walked back into the mansion where both of our moms were waiting. “Where were you two?” My mom asked. “We took a walk to catch up.” Illumi said. “I see you took care of those god awful rings that the spider gave her.” Kikyo said. “She won’t see them again.” Illumi said. “Good those rings were ugly. Now I’m sure the rings you will give her will more beautiful than he gave her.” My mom said. “How’s the wedding planning going?” I asked. “You’ll be marrying by the end of the week. We just need to finish some little details. We had this planned for almost three years.” My mom said. I forced a smile. “That’s amazing. I would love to see the dress.” I said. “We are actually picking up the dress tomorrow.” Kikyo said. “I would love to come with to go and pick it up.” I said. “Oh no that would ruin the surprise. Illumi didn’t you say you wanted to wait till you found her to get the ring right.” My mom said. “Yes that is correct.” Illumi said. “You can go with Illumi.”My mom said. “Yes Ma’ma.” I said. “Come on its dinner time.” Kikyo said. “Well I really need to get home. I’m so happy that you’re back where you belong.” My mom said kissing the side of my head. “I know.” I said. “Thank you for bringing her home Illumi.” My mom said. Illumi nodded then my mom left.

We follow Kikyo to the dining room. Diner had to be the most awkward ever. Of course Zeno and Silva was furious when they found out that I was with Chrollo and that they never knew. After dinner Illumi and I went back to his room. I went over and sat down on his bed. Illumi came over and sat down beside me. I wanted to go back to Chrollo but I couldn’t. “Do you think he’s looking for me?” I asked. “Yes.” Illumi said. “Well we need to make him not come after me.” I said. “How do you want to that?” Illumi said. “Since he hired you to do a job right. I’m sure that you still have his number correct.” I said. “You are correct” Illumi said. “Call him and let me talk to him. I’m the only one that would make him not come after me.” I said. “You don’t have to do that.” Illumi said. “I have to. Please give me your phone.” I said holding out my hand. Illumi handed me his phone. I unlocked it to already see missed calls from Chrollo. I called him back putting his phone to my ear and waited on him to answer.

“I swear Zoldyck if you hurt her.” Chrollo said. “Chrollo.” I said. “Y/n are you hurt? Where are you?” Chrollo asked. “I’m fine I can’t tell you where I am. I’m not coming back either.” I said. “What are you talking about?” Chrollo asked. “I can’t tell you. Did you honestly think that we would last.” I said. “I love you.” Chrollo said. “Stop.” I said. “No I love you. I know that something happened. Zoldyck must have done something to make you say all of this.” Chrollo said. “No. No one has done anything.” I said. “I love you.” Chrollo said. “Stop saying that. You don’t. You don’t love me. You never did. Illumi has always loves me and always will.” I said. “I will get you back. Once I can use Nen again I’ll get you back.” Chrollo said. “Goodbye Chrollo.” I said and hung up. I handed Illumi back his phone. “Do you think he and troupe will come for you?” illumi asked. “No he’s not with the troupe and can’t be.” I said. “What happened?” Illumi asked. “That blonde boy that Killua and Gon are friends with he stabbed Chrollo in the heart with a judgement blade. He can’t use Nen or talk to any troupe member if he does he will die.” I said. “But you’re a troupe member.” Illumi said. “Not an official one. The blonde boy must have felt sorry for me because he allowed me to stay with Chrollo.” I said. “So that’s why you wanted to make sure he doesn’t come after you.” Illumi said. “I’m not worth starting a war.” I said. “Yes you are. You didn’t tell him.” Illumi said. “I’m not sure if I’m even pregnant.” I said. “How long have you been throwing up in the morning?” Illumi asked. “Two weeks.” I said putting my head on his shoulder.

Illumi and I didn’t talk much the rest of the night. The next morning we had went to go get the ring like we said we were. The ring was beautiful there was no doubt about it. But I knew nothing would be able to beat the ring that Chrollo gave to me. I knew it and Illumi knew it. But this would make our moms happy. If this was three years ago I would have been happy that I was marrying Illumi. But that was then and this is now.

Just like our moms said Illumi and I were married at the end of the week. I told my mom that Chrollo would never come after me and she actually believed it. Silva and Zeno I’m not so sure that they believed it. I’ve still thrown up every morning. Illumi promised me that he will be by my side the whole time. That’s when we also decided to tell them about my morning sickness. They all seemed happy and called a doctor. The doctor came and went telling us that he would come back before the day was over with the results. I was in mine and Illumi’s room sitting on the bed a nervous wreck. Illumi wasn’t here because he left not long after the doctor left to do a job but he promised to finish the job as soon as he could to get back.

At the end of the day the doctor called me back finally confirming that I was pregnant. I thought that I would have been happy to hear that I was pregnant but I wasn’t I was sad. I sent a text to Illumi to let him know. I put my phone down on the bed and left the room to go tell our moms. Of course they were happy to hear that there was going to be future assassins. Then they went off to probably start planning for the baby. I went back to Illumi’s and I room going to lie down in bed. I didn’t feel like getting under the covers. I brought an extra pillow close to me. I buried my face in the pillow as I started to cry and cried myself.

I could feel someone stroking my hair. I pushed my face more into the pillow. I felt a cold hand on my stomach when startled me awake. I saw Illumi sitting next to me. “You scared me.” I said sitting up. “I’m guessing they brought it.” Illumi said. “Yeah they did. I wouldn’t be surprise if the baby’s room is already done.” I said. “It is already done.” Illumi said. “I guess I’ve been asleep for a while then. What time is?” I asked. “It’s about seven in the morning.” Illumi said. I nodded as I got up from bed grabbing some clothes and went to take a shower.

Five months later

I now have a very noticeable baby bump. I’m five almost six months along. I haven’t heard from Chrollo since the day I told him not to come after me. At first I hoped that he wouldn’t listen to me and come to take me back. But as time went on and he didn’t I accepted that I was here and that I have to be with someone that I didn’t love. I was sitting in bed with my back against the headboard rubbing my stomach. Illumi was on a job that would take a few days but he had finished it and was on his way back. “Hey little one it’s mom. I wish that you could have met you father but I guess that you will never be able to. It’s all my fault I couldn’t run from my past and because of that you won’t know him. I’m not sure that Illumi will love or care about you. He keeps saying that he will but I just don’t fully believe him. I really hope that dad would come to fight for me because he knew how destroyed me when Illumi didn’t do the same. But he had to do the same.” I said as tears filled my eyes. Then I started to feel the baby kick for the first time. “Oh little one you don’t know how happy you made me.” I said. The baby started to kick more as I heard the door open.

I looked towards to the door and saw Illumi. “Are you alright?” Illumi asked. “Come here.” I said as I motioned my hand to him. Illumi walked over and sat down on the bed beside me. I grabbed his hand and put it on my stomach. “Can you do that again for mom little one?” I asked. The baby started to kick again. Illumi had a small smile on his face. “This is the first time I felt the little one kick.” I said. “They seem to really be reacting to your voice.” Illumi said taking his hand off my stomach. When I looked at Illumi I could feel my heart start to flutter like it used to. No. No no. No I. No I can’t start to have feeling for Illumi again. I love Chrollo and he loves me. He’s just waiting to get his Nen back then he would come to get me. But I couldn’t help but wonder if he already had his nen back and just never came for me. He had to find someone else. That had to be the reason. He hasn’t come and he never will. My feeling for Illumi slowly started to come back. I put my hand on top of his. I gave him a small smile. I wrapped my other arm around his neck. Then I pulled him to me and kissed him.

Illumi wrapped an arm around me pulling me closer to him. I took off the hand that was on top of his and also wrapped it around his neck. Then the baby started to kick which made me pull away giggling. “I guess that the little one tell us to stop.” I said. “I guess so. Should I ask what brought this on?” Illumi said. “Just felt like it. Lay down with me please.” I said lying down in bed. Illumi nodded and lay down beside me. I cuddle up to him putting my head on his chest. “Have you eaten anything today?” Illumi asked. “I’m pregnant Illumi I’m always eating.” I said. “Have you been okay?” Illumi asked. “I’ve been a bit more tired than usual. Can I ask you something?” I said looking up to him. “What is it?” Illumi asked. “Have you seen Chrollo at all?” I asked. “No I haven’t.” Illumi said. “Oh okay.” I said burying my head in his chest. “If you want I could try to find him.” Illumi said. “No it’s okay. I’m okay here. I’m okay here with you.” I said.

Three months later

It’s could be any day now that I could give birth. Illumi told me to stay in bed until I give birth. I was the only one in the mansion besides the butlers. Everyone was away of different missions. I was just hoping not to go into labor until they got back. I heard a knock at the door as the baby started to kick. I got up from the bed and went to open the door. As soon as I got up I felt a pain in my stomach. I double over in pain as I grabbed my stomach. “No. No. No little one. Illumi’s not home.” I said as there was more knocking at the door. I groaned out in pain as I sat down on the bed. “Come in.” I said. The door opened and Chrollo walked in. “What are you doing.” I said as I felt around wave of pain. Chrollo rushed over to my side putting his hand on my knee. “Are you okay?” Chrollo asked. “I think I’m going into labor.” I said. “He got you pregnant.” Chrollo said. I rolled my eyes. “No he didn’t.” I said as I winced again. “Why didn’t you tell me? You should have told me.” Chrollo said. “You can’t use nen. If you tried to fight any of the Zoldyck you will die.” I said. “Couldn’t. I couldn’t use Nen. But the troupe fixed me.” Chrollo said. “They did?” I asked. “Yes they did. Come on let’s go everyone misses you.” Chrollo said as he stood up a bit leaning in to kiss me. But I turned away from him. “You can’t do that.” I said. “Did Zoldyck do anything to you?” Chrollo said putting a hand on my cheek. I slowly took it off. “I had to marry Illumi. My parents promised that if Illumi ever brought me back then we could get married.” I said. “Did you tell them that you were already married?” Chrollo asked. “They didn’t care. They forged our divorced papers.” I said. The pain started to get worst making me start to cry. “Can you walk?” Chrollo asked. I shook my head. “It’s okay I’ll carry you.” Chrollo said. “No just leave.” I said. “No I’m not leaving you in this house.” Chrollo said. “If you take me the Zoldyck will know who took me and will come to look for you.” I said. “I don’t care. I can protect you and our child now.” Chrollo said. “It’s that I don’t.” I said but stop when another wave of pain causing me to scream in pain. Then someone burst through the door. Chrollo quickly scooped me up into his arms holding me close to him. I saw Kikyo and Kalluto. This was not going to end well.